A surprised laugh left me. “Believe it or not, it’s not that.”
“I’m shocked.” She yawned again, snuggling against my chest. “What is it?”
I opened my mouth, watching her. When she blinked, her eyes were slow to open and quick to close again. She was tired, and I doubted that she’d gotten much more sleep than I had over the last several weeks. Not only that, I had taken a lot of blood. She had to be exhausted.
I glanced at the small window. It was dark beyond the opening. Even if the mist was still thick, we wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight. Not with the Craven at the Rise. There was time.
There had to be.
Poppy needed to sleep and then feed. Those were the two most important things. Even more important than telling her about Millicent. And that wasn’t me avoiding telling her about the Handmaiden. I wouldn’t keep secrets from her ever again, no matter how badly I wanted to. Because I knew this would mess her up and was why she needed to be rested and fed. Strong. No one needed to learn this kind of news half-asleep and weakened.
“What?” Poppy asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “What did you want to tell me?”
I dragged my hand up her back and over the thick strands of her hair. I cupped the back of her head, keeping her cheek pressed to my chest. “Only that I love you,” I said, lifting enough to press a kiss to the top of her hair. “With my heart and my soul, today and tomorrow. I will never get enough of you.”
“You say that now…”
“Not in a hundred years.” I looked down at her, seeing a hint of a soft smile. A beautiful one. I could live on her smiles. They were that precious. Each one a godsdamn gift. I could exist on her laughter. The sound was that important. That life-altering. “Not in a thousand years. Never. Enough.”
She gave me a squeeze and then started to lift her head.
I stilled her. “I know. We need to get up, but just…let me hold you for a little bit. Okay? Just a few more moments.”
Poppy immediately relaxed, just like I knew she would upon the request. And just like I’d suspected, when her eyes closed once more, they didn’t reopen. She fell asleep, and I…I stared at the bridge of her nose, her parted lips, smoothing my hand through her hair as Millicent’s words broke free from the void.
She’ll die in your arms.
Chapter 33
I couldn’t sleep.
Not when Millicent’s warning preyed on my mind. But I stayed with Poppy, running my fingers through her hair. Soaking in her warmth. Counting the steady, strong beats of her heart. Listening to each breath she took until footsteps neared the door and then stopped.
Only then did I lift her from me, carefully easing her onto her side. She didn’t wake. Didn’t make a sound as I drew the thin blanket over her body. That was how exhausted she was.
I rose, stopping to brush the strands of hair back from her face and kiss her cheek. As close as I was, I saw the faint gray shadows under her eyes. It took nearly every ounce of control I had to leave that bed, but I did. I deserved a fucking medal for it.
Stopping where a neat pile of clothing had been left on a small armchair, I pulled on a pair of black pants. Buttoning the flap, I looked over my shoulder at Poppy. She slept on her side, just as I’d left her, one shoulder bared above the blanket, and her hair a stream of flames spread across the bed behind her. A knot lodged in my chest, a bundle of memories. Of the first time I’d held her while she slept on the cold, hard ground of the Blood Forest. The last time before I was taken, in the ship on that gently rocking bed. She always looked so damn peaceful. Beautiful. Strong. Brave, even in rest.
And I was hers.
I turned away before climbing right back into the bed. My flesh already missed the feel of hers as I went to the door, opening it.
Kieran was leaning against the wall, his head tipped back. His eyes opened, locking on mine. He went completely still as I closed the door. His mouth moved, but I heard no words as he lurched forward. I met him halfway. One or both of us staggered a little as we collided. His hand trembled as he clasped the back of my neck. The knot of emotion in my chest grew as I held him as close as I had Poppy, and in that silence, I thanked the gods—sleeping, dead, or whatever as I dropped my forehead to his shoulder. For him being there for Poppy. For him just being here. For a bond thicker than blood or tradition.