Page 96 of Ember and Ash

“I do,” I say softly. “Please don’t get mad at Silas. He did what I asked, and you should check on him, too. I cut him across the chest. It was kind of bad. I didn’t mean to, but I’m not as masterful with a sword as we might all prefer.”

“Silas can handle himself, and I’m not sorry that you made him feel pain. Shut your eyes and just rest a little bit, let the hot water work. There’s some soto nectar in the bubbles, too.”

“Why can’t I use my magic?”

“When we rapid-heal, our bodies put the energy toward that process. Once I gave you the soto, that process started. Stop being stubborn. Shut your eyes.”

“I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep.”

“I’ll wake you up,” he promises.

“You’re just going to sit there and stare at me?”

“With great pleasure.”

The warmth that spreads through me has nothing to do with the water. It’s all him. I let my lashes flutter and lower, allowing the water and soto to seep through my body. And I drift in and out of slumber. In one of my darkness moments, he comes to me. The man with the red wings spread wide, thick feathers outlined in black. “Where do you belong?” I swear he leans into my ear and whispers.

I gasp and open my eyes to find Micah leaning over me. “Can you stand?”

The aches in my body have faded, and I whisper, “I think so,” but my hand comes down on his face. “Micah,” I whisper.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“This is where I belong, right?”

“Yes, Ember. This is absolutely where you belong.”

“It’s my home?”

“It’s your home.” He eases back and produces a giant towel he holds open wide. “Let me know if you feel unsteady.”

I nod and ease out of the tub, greatly improved. “I’m good,” I say, and I push to my feet, wrapping the towel around myself, but before I can even attempt to step out, Micah hauls me into his arms and sets me on the floor.

Once he’s certain I’m standing on my own two feet, he produces a silk robe and drapes it around me. “Put your arms in,” he orders softly, and he’s so close, the comforting warmth of the water replaced by the burn of his nearness. I slide my arms inside and let the towel fall away, and for a moment, I’m naked between us, but something about the way that winged man asked me, “Where do you belong?” rings like a warning.

Micah ties the robe in place for me. “Better?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say, always better when I’m with him, but I’m not sure the same is true of him, even if he thinks otherwise.

Micah captures my hand and leads me into the bedroom, pulling the blankets back for me. I climb under, and he tucks me in, surprised when he lies down next to me, on top of the blankets. “What are you doing?”

“Staying.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m staying,” he repeats.

I roll to my side to face him. “How do I fight demons if I’m destroyed by Silas?”

“We were built to kill demons, Ember. We’re the greater adversary, and you’re new to fighting.”

“We have no time.”

“We don’t need as much time as you think if you’re already cutting Silas. That wasn’t a lack of skill, it was the opposite. Silas doesn’t get cut.”

“So, I’m a badass who can’t even use her own magic now?”

“Try again.”