I had yet to be introduced to Urgg, and I really wanted to meet the barbarus. They seemed like fun, and since I didn’t understand their language, it had been next to impossible to learn much about them.
But it had been a few days since I’d seen Tinlorray, and the guilt was beginning to grow. Ihadpromised Yolkeltod to check in on her, but I’d been busy. Well, that was an excuse. I kind of felt like a peeping tom or something when I watched her grieve. I hoped she’d let go of Yolkeltod’s body now that his soul had moved on, but I didn’t know if she actually would.
Grief was a funny thing. It rooted us in place and refused to let us move on, even when we wanted to.
I glanced at Fyn, then quickly away. He was wearing a tight gray tank top and red leggings that clung to his muscular legs. His long white hair was tied into a messy knot. Unable to stop myself, I peeked again. He was drinking water, scales shinier than usual. The apple in his throat bobbed, making me swallow a groan.
I’d gone along to observe when he went to his combat class, even though there was plenty to explore. The whole time I’d been unable to look away from him. His broad form as hestretched. The way he laughed occasionally with Kal. The way he moved when he fought. The strength of his tail. His serious expression when Kal or the instructor would comment on his form.
It all captivated me.
I’d barely paid attention when he introduced me to his eldest brother and crown prince, Hallonnixmin. I’d clocked dark blue scales, messy purple hair, and nothing else. Same with Hallonnixmin’s mate, Gilvaxtin. She was pink—pink hair and scales. I had no idea what else. I’d given no more attention to Monqilcolnen who remained beside Hallonnixmin and Gilvaxtin, making light jokes. Instead, my eyes remained fixed on Fyn.
When we came back to his apartment, I’d barely spoken because I’d been embarrassed by the amount of staring I’d done. I didn’t think Fyn noticed my blatant ogling, because he hadn’t said anything. Besides, if I’d opened my mouth, words about what I’d felt watching him would spill out.
Obvious thy name was Caleb.
Pulling my gaze from his throat, which bobbed as he drank water, I said, “I think I’m going to go to the city today.”
He lowered the glass. “What?”
“I need to check on Tinlorray.”
“I will come with you.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re a prince. I can’t imagine she would be comfortable with you randomly showing up.”
“True,” he replied slowly.
“I need to make sure she’s okay, then I’ll be back.”
Sunshine stared at me, his claws scraping against the glass. “Do you have to?”
“Yeah.” I moved until I was in front of him. I peered up at him, wanting to close the distance between us and press my lips on his.
His jaw clenched, tail writhing. “Will you come back?”
“Probably not tonight. It depends on the shuttle schedule.” I’d asked Wyn and NAID about the schedule through Fyn, and they’d pulled it up for me to memorize. It had been easy enough.
“I would…” he trailed off and swallowed, making that alluring knot in his throat bob. “I would prefer it if you came back tonight.”
I grinned, unable to stop it, and went up on my toes. “I will try my best.”
“Thank you.”
Butterfly wings fluttered in my midsection, accompanied by a soft beeping noise. Both were gone in a flash, but I rested a hand on my gut. It had been there. Beaming at Fyn, I knew he was my sunshine, bringing this new cozy summertime into the winter of my afterlife.
I stepped onto the shuttle that would take me to one of the satellite cities of the capital. It was quite some distance away, but the shuttle made the trip short and relevantly convenient. When it landed, I slipped through the crowd and wound my way through the streets. I had to backtrack a few times before I found the hospital.
Finding Yolkeltod’s room was harder than I would’ve guessed. The search took over an hour before I stumbled upon a familiar hallway. I stepped through the door, and Yolkeltod’s lifeless body was still in the bed near the window.
The machines attached to him via cords and tubes beeped in a consistent rhythm. There was a new square device on his forehead that had nothing on the minuscule screen. I couldn’t say what it did, if anything, because it looked like a black box stuck to his forehead.
Tinlorray was nowhere to be seen.
I plopped onto the stool next to his bed and stared at him, tracing the planes and angles. He felt oddly empty, which, I mean, he was. Yolkeltod was no longer here. He’d moved on to whatever came after this.
Some of the lingering guilt of his easy passing had vanished when Fyn had told me there had been no way to reconnect his soul to his body. Despite that, it would have been nice to reunite the two. Yolkeltod was all that Tinlorray had.
