Page 19 of Bought By the Manticore

“Why are they holding you?” I asked, stepping closer. The roots slithered under my feet, twitching slightly as I moved.

“Because I am scattered.” Skaros let out a frustrated breath, tracking me with amber eyes. “Out there, in the waking world, I have no true shape. I am a thousand roots in the soil, creeping through the cracks of the stone. This realm… this is the only place I can pull the fragments of my mind into a single form.”

I stopped a few paces away, the fractured pieces of his reality finally making sense. The vines holding him down were his own scattered essence. He was tearing himself apart just to stand here in one piece. The force of will that it took—I could feel it like heat off his skin.

“Were you the one to guide me through the Blighted Lands?” I asked.

Skaros shook his head. “The asphodels there have their own mind. I cannot reach them. But I have been reaching for you since your scent first touched the air of Asphodelia.”

I remembered the flowers at the agora, the way they’d sought me out from the beginning. The truth of it was undeniable. “And you’ve been caring for me. In the infirmary.”

“I’ve been trying,” Skaros replied. “When you sleep, I draw the thorns into myself. I take the pain away. But today, the blind healer poured ice into your veins.”

“Eryx gave me a draught,” I said softly, trying to explain. “He said it would put the pain to sleep. It gave me peace, Skaros. For the first time in years, nothing hurts.”

“It built a wall,” Skaros countered. “It wrapped your blood in a layer of frost. When I came to your room, I couldn’t touch you. I could feel you sinking into that unnatural dark, and I was completely locked out. I am grateful that you’re no longer in pain, Ianthe. But I fear what the disease might do, now that I can’t touch it.”

The raw devastation in his voice made my chest tighten. He was looking at me with a fierce, frantic devotion. He had spent hours trapped in the dirt of the city, tormented by his inability to ease my suffering.

“I didn’t know,” I murmured. I looked at the thick vines biting into his forearms. He was fighting this hard just to find a way back to my side.

I closed the rest of the distance between us and knelt on the stone. Up close, the sheer heat rolling off his body was intoxicating. It chased away the last lingering chill of Eryx’s potion, wrapping around me like a heavy blanket.

Slowly, I reached out and pressed my palm against his cheek.

He went still, and something raw flickered across in his amber eyes. He leaned his head into my hand and closed his eyes. A low, rumbling purr started deep in his chest, vibrating right through my fingertips and into my bones.

“I am here now,” I whispered, tracing the soft edge of his fur.

Skaros opened his eyes. A fierce resolve flared in his gaze. He let out a deafening roar that ripped through the mist, the muscles in his shoulders rippling with terrifying power.

With a violent jerk, he lunged forward.

The thick vines binding his back snapped with a sound like splintering bone. His massive wings ripped free from the tangled roots. He swept them around us instantly, enclosing us both. Their sheer size blocked out the mist and the pale garden entirely, plunging us into a private, shadowed sanctuary.

The air inside the cocoon was warm, smelling faintly of musk and flowers. Skaros wrenched one of his clawed hands free from the remaining vines. He brought it up to cover the hand I still held against his cheek. His claws were just as thick and sharp asmy people claimed, but his touch over my fingers was impossibly gentle.

“I need your permission, Ianthe,” he said. “The barrier the healer made will not fade tonight. To bypass the frost, to draw the sickness out, I must reach past the wall. I must slip past the breath on your lips and trace it to your core.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against my face. “I have no desire to take what you do not offer. I will not cross that threshold unless you bid me to.”

I stared at him. This monster was asking for my consent to soothe my pain, even while his own form was broken and scattered across an entire city. He was suffering just to be here, and yet he still stopped at the boundary line to ask.

I didn’t hesitate. Whatever this was, whatever it cost him to be here—none of it mattered. Right then, there was only the warmth of his skin and the way he was looking at me.

“Do it,” I whispered. “Whatever you have to do, Skaros. Please.”

Skaros lowered his head, resting his forehead against mine. “Thank you for trusting me,” he said. “I won’t fail you.”

As he spoke, a rush of soothing energy flooded my chest. It came from him, bridging the tiny space between us. The edges of the dream began to blur, the garden and the wings dissolving into a soft light. Anchored by his comforting presence, I let my eyes close and sank into dreamless rest.

She accepts me. Even seeing me as I truly am, she trusts me.

I stayed coiled beside her on the mattress. The single blossom remained pressed against her temple, keeping the bridge open between my mind and her sleeping thoughts. The echo of her permission was still there, ringing clear and true. She had opened the door for me.

The blind healer’s potion still coated her veins. To my senses, it felt like a wall of solid ice, locking the city’s energy out. Her permission alone could not melt that frost, but it gave me the right to bypass it.

I unwound a slender, smooth vine from the tangle at her side. If I had been just a mindless beast, I would have forced my way in, tearing her flesh to claim my meal. But I moved with absolute precision. I hovered just over her mouth, pausing for a heartbeat. Then, I slid the tip of the vine past her parted lips, resting it gently over her tongue.