Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 131364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
She lifted her lashes, afraid it was a dream, that Adam’s voice, the way he sounded, were just things she wanted and not things she could ever have—because that yearning…she could still feel it. But there he was, his hair tumbled over his forehead and his upper body clad in a short-sleeved shirt rather than the tee she’d seen him in before her flameout.
“Twenty-six hours,” he said, as if he’d read her mind, the falcon looking back at her out of his eyes. “Perfect timing for breakfast.”
She’d slept away an entire day. That was bad. Flameouts didn’t ordinarily cause unconsciousness for that long, but she remembered the feeling of strain in her head before she went down, the blood on her fingers when she’d touched them to the liquid by her ears.
When she made as if to rise, Adam put his hand under her back to help her up. That was when she realized she wasn’t wearing her suit, but pajamas of a blue material soft against her skin.
Her hand clenched on the edge of the sheet.
“Naia refused to leave you in the suit.” Adam’s gaze held hers even as the heat and strength of him wrapped around her, his size even more apparent to her this close. “She’s the one who took care of that.”
Her muscles relaxed. She could accept the healer’s touch but would’ve never accepted Adam’s, not like this, not now, not when a lifetime and one terrible choice stood between them. “Jacques?” Her voice came out dry, cracked.
Adam passed her a glass of water. “Far more responsive to Naia, and readings show a healthy brain.”
“Good.” She drank half the glass. “That’s good.”
“You think you can get up?” Taking the glass from her, he put it on the bedside table.
“Yes. I’m fine on the physical level, just out of juice on the psychic.” And well past the twenty-four-hour mark when she should’ve already begun to recover. Whatever had taken place, whatever she’d done, it had wiped her out, the effect likely exacerbated by her extreme Sensitivity.
As she swung her legs around, Adam stood watch as if ready to catch her. “There’s no one nearby who will hurt you. Hanz—the young E you didn’t meet—has already left, and Sascha will be heading off within the hour and is happy to keep her distance unless you want to see her. We’re not calling in any other Es until Jacques stabilizes further. You’re safe.”
Safe.
Eleri had never felt safe, not truly. As a young child, she’d known she was unwanted, an error who needed to be handled. Bram, Saffy, and Yúzé had made boarding school better, but they’d all been under constant watch there for the signs of serious instability that affected a minor percentage of young Js.
The four of them had been powerless children together.
Later, for a few fleeting years, she’d thought Reagan might be safe, that she could trust him with all the pieces of her. Then he’d lied in that courtroom and she’d understood that Reagan had his secrets, that all he showed her was the surface gloss.
She wasn’t sure she even understood the concept of being safe.
But today, as she got off the bed and saw Adam tense as if to catch her should she fall, she got a glimmer. “I’m stable,” she said, even as part of her wanted to pretend she wasn’t, a sensation as deep as the yearning…and nowhere near deep enough. Because a flameout couldn’t fix what multiple reconditionings had taken from her.
“And I would like to say good-bye to Sascha. I think…she tried to help me at the end.” It had felt like a warm embrace that gave her body and mind just enough respite that she could haul Jacques out of the glass pond.
“I’ll ask her to come by.” Adam brushed a strand of hair off her face with a tenderness that she wished she could feel as far more than the merest brush. “We have to talk. It’s time.”
Eleri swallowed hard, and it was a numbed echo of a scream that she was swallowing back. Because there was nothing left of her now that this time had come at last. “Yes,” was all she said aloud, because she couldn’t give it up, even if it was a faded copy of what once might’ve been.
Adam dropped his hand, and it felt as if he did so with reluctance. “Shower’s through there,” he said, pointing to the door. “Anything you need, just yell out. I’ll be outside your room. We’re going to breakfast afterward, because first you need to eat.
“In lieu of breaking in, I asked Mi-ja to let me into your room so I could get your luggage—she’s no doubt told the entire town you’re in the Canyon by now, probably with embellishment.” An amused smile. “Clan also laundered and pressed your suit if you prefer that over what you have in your luggage. Take as long as you want in the shower—I’m not going anywhere.”