Charlie and Maddox make pallets on the floor of our room, and from all the tossing and turning I hear, I get the sense they don’t sleep at all either.
By the time morning comes, we all look as if we’ve been punched in both eyes, purple bruises underneath our lids, our eyes bloodshot.
But Nolan wakes, and I could die of relief.
“Please don’t tell me you’re all going to be on my case after this,” says Nolan.
“I’m telling the crew this morning at breakfast that I’m taking over as temporary captain until you recover,” says Maddox.
Nolan’s previously heavy lids shoot open. “You’ll do no such thing.”
“Fine,” says Maddox, crossing his arms. “I’m telling the crew that I’m taking over as temporary captain while you enjoy some much needed quality time with your bride.”
Nolan glares at him, but this time he doesn’t argue. Maddox and Charlie exchange a concerned glance. I take it that Nolan giving up on an argument this early isn’t a good sign.
“Thank you two for coming to my aid last night,” says Nolan. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like some of that quality time with my wife now.”
Charlie and Maddox look at me for confirmation, and I nod. “Just stay close by?” I ask.
“Of course,” says Charlie.
Once they leave, I turn to face my husband. He’s already propped himself up in bed, his chest bare. Already, the tattoos he commissioned to mask his illness are proving inadequate. The graying tendrils from the magic poisoning have grown past the lines of the tattoos, seeping into previously healthy skin and casting the illusion that his tattoos are bleeding.
When I glance back up at his face, I realize his gaze has been tracing mine. “If only we could have wed before all this. I’d have been much more fun to look at, I assure you.”
“I remember what you looked like before,” I say, which earns me a sly grin as I crawl into bed and trace the wounds with my fingers.
He shivers underneath my touch. “Your hands are frigid,” he says, but I don’t pull away.
“I did this to you,” I whisper.
“Yes,” he says, “and if you don’t stop that, you’re going to give me frostbite in addition.”
I shoot him an annoyed look, and he grins like that’s exactly what he’s been hoping for.
“I’m serious, Nolan,” I say, sitting back on my hips and placing my hands into my lap. “You’re dying because of what I did.”
“Objective bystanders assessing the situation might say that I brought it upon myself,” he says.
“I didn’t have to do it, though. I could have kept you from killing Peter without maiming you. Or just let you kill him. Then everyone would have been better off.” I bury my face in my palms, rubbing my temples with my thumbs.
“I tried to exchange your life for my dead wife’s after luring you into that cave under pretense. It was an understandable reaction,” says Nolan, shrugging. “Besides, I like seeing you angry. It’s sexy.”
I throw a pillow at him, and he tosses it right back so that it hits me in the face.
“Well, I’m going to figure out a way to get you out of this mess,” I say.
“Are you now?”
“You don’t like that idea?”
“On the contrary, I quite enjoy seeing you all determined. Especially on my behalf. But Darling, if we only have so much time together…” He says it carefully, like he’s walking on eggshells around me, before finishing the thought. “My preference would be to make the most of it together. My worst fear isn’t dying. It’s spending the remainder of my life searching for a cure that isn’t out there. Missing out on my best moments with you.”
“Yeah, well, as romantic as that sounds, my worst fear does happen to be you dying,” I say, unable (and not really trying) to mask the annoyance in my voice.
“Well, perhaps you’re correct, then. Maybe you should have considered that before you maimed me irreparably.”
“You’re such an imbecile sometimes, Nolan Astor.”
