Chapter 93
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. I stretched slowly, feeling a strange, quiet energy humming through me. The healer’s remedy was already beginning to work—I could feel it, a subtle warmth spreading through my limbs, like the first touch of spring after a long winter. It was faint, but it was there.
I sat up, glancing over to find Arsen already awake, his eyes fixed on me with that familiar intensity. The look in his eyes was a mix of relief and worry, and it sent a pang through my chest.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice soft, though the undercurrent of protectiveness was unmistakable.
“Better,” I replied honestly. “I think the remedy’s starting to work.” I flexed my fingers, marveling at how steady they felt, how the fog that had settled over me seemed to be lifting, even if only slightly.
But as I began to swing my legs over the side of the bed, Arsen’s hand reached out, stopping me. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To work,” I said, looking at him as if it were obvious. “I have things to check on. Reports, meetings, patrols—”
“No,” he cut in, his voice firm. “You’re staying here. You’re still resting.”
I sighed, fighting back the flicker of irritation that rose in me. “Arsen, I’m not made of glass. I’m feeling better. And I can’t just lie here doing nothing.”
He crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering. “You’re not doing ‘nothing.’ You’re healing. There’s a difference.”
I frowned, pulling the blankets back up around me. “Arsen, I need to be out there. The pack needs their Luna to be visible, to show them that I’m okay.”
“And you will,” he replied, his tone soft but unyielding. “Once you’re fully recovered.”
I could feel the frustration bubbling up inside me, and I clenched my fists, willing myself to stay calm. “Arsen, I’m not going to be kept in bed like a sick child. I have responsibilities, and I’m more than capable of handling them.”
He softened at that, reaching out to take my hand in his. “Aelin, I know you’re strong. I know you can handle more than anyone else. But sometimes… sometimes it’s okay to let someone else carry the weight. Just for a while.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but his gaze stopped me. There was a vulnerability there, a rawness I hadn’t expected. He was afraid, and that fear was driving his protectiveness, making him keep me here, close and safe.
My shoulders slumped, the fight leaving me as I squeezed his hand. “Fine,” I murmured, the word barely audible.
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Thank you,” he said softly, his voice filled with a gratitude that made my chest ache.
The day passed in quiet stillness, with Arsen never straying far from my side. Every time I tried to get up, to wander or even stretch, he was there, gently guiding me back, insisting on rest. And as much as it frustrated me, I found a strange comfort in his vigilance, in the way he watched over me with such unwavering care.
By the time the sun began to set, I could feel the weight of his presence surrounding me, his silent strength a constant reminder that I didn’t have to face this alone. I hadn’t even realized how tired I was until I sank back into the pillows, a soft sigh escaping me.
Arsen settled beside me, his hand resting on mine as he looked out over the darkening sky. “You know,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, “I’ve never been this terrified.”
I turned to him, surprised by the admission. “You don’t look terrified.”
He chuckled, though there was little humor in the sound. “Maybe not. But every time I think about what Ascian did, about the possibility of something permanent… I can feel it. This fear. Like a weight pressing down on me.”
I reached for his hand, intertwining our fingers as I gave his a reassuring squeeze. “Arsen… we’re going to be okay. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”
He nodded, but his gaze was distant, his thoughts somewhere far away. “I know,” he said softly. “But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to keep you safe. To make sure nothing ever touches you again.”
I felt my heart twist at the raw emotion in his voice, the fierce protectiveness that had always been there, woven into every part of him. And as much as his insistence on my rest frustrated me, I knew that it came from a place of love, of a need to shield me from the shadows that lingered.
“Arsen,” I whispered, leaning closer, “you don’t have to carry all of this by yourself. I’m here too. We’re stronger together, remember?”
He smiled, a small, tender smile that softened the lines of worry etched into his face. “I know,” he murmured, his thumb tracing slow circles over my hand. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop wanting to protect you. To keep you safe.”
The room was quiet, the only sound the soft murmur of our breathing, the distant hum of the night settling in. And as I lay there, wrapped in his warmth, I felt the last remnants of my fear slip away, replaced by a quiet, unshakeable peace.
Eventually, he moved, lifting me gently and guiding me towards the bath once more. I didn’t resist this time, letting him help me settle into the warm water, his hands gentle and sure as he washed away the weariness of the day.
His fingers traced over my skin, each movement slow and deliberate, a silent reassurance that he was here, that I was safe. I closed my eyes, sinking into the warmth, feeling his presence wrap around me like a shield, a promise that nothing would harm me as long as he was near.
When he finally lifted me from the water, wrapping me in a towel and carrying me back to bed, I felt a strange sense of contentment, a quiet calm that settled over me like a blanket.
And as he tucked me in, his hand brushing over my cheek, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I could let go of my own need for control, to allow myself to rest, to heal, knowing that Arsen would be there, watching over me, keeping me safe.
For the first time, I felt truly at peace, the weight of my worries slipping away as I drifted into sleep, held close by the one person I knew would never let me go.