A Storm of Flames and Deceit

XXIX. Thawed

Eris
She is already fast asleep when I return from dinner and drinks. She had excused herself early on the grounds that she didn't have much of an appetite- which I didn't find too terribly hard to believe. I wouldn't force her to eat when her body was telling her not to. The best I can do for her is to just encourage her to eat whenever she can stand it.
I began to follow after her, but she stopped me, telling me I ought to stay and make the most of the meeting time. Reluctantly, I agreed, though I didn't have much desire to brave any of it without her. I had grown used to having her as a buffer, a focal point that I can use to narrow my attention when it has been split and frayed.
Not to mention, the inner circle liked her. That much I could tell. Despite only operating at half energy after Rhysand and Feyre's mental intrusion, she made a good impression today. Like she always does.
Still, I couldn't leave dinner quick enough, dodging Cassian's glare. He hates me because I proposed to his mate, but I wonder how he hasn't figured out why yet. It was never about making Nesta my wife- though I don't doubt that she would've been a powerful queen at my side, even if I didn't feel for her. It was about taking something from Night. Just think of what they would've done if Nesta had said yes like she almost had. They would've given me anything, and Cassian most of all should know that.
I care not if that makes me evil. More than anything, it makes me smart. It makes me smart to know the price of an asset.
I approach Nephele where she lays in bed, only dressed in her long gray sweater from earlier, moonlight slanting through the windows, illuminating the room gently. She doesn't wear any pants, but I do see a slip of white, lace underwear peaking from her hip. Turning away, I swallow a restraining breath as I dress for bed, unbuttoning my shirt, slipping my night pants up my thighs. I wish in that moment that I was capable of sleeping in a shirt, something to buffer the feeling of her skin buzzing so near to mine, but I run too warm for such a thing. If I slept in anymore clothes, I'd wake up in a pool of cold sweat, so I think I prefer to sleep as I normally do.
I blow out the candle, slipping under the silky covers beside her, taking a big breath of her scent: lavender and rainwater. Coincidentally, it rains gently outside in a storm that is not her doing, raindrops crying down the glass of the window, the most soothing lullaby I can think of.
I watch her for a second, memorizing how she lays her head against the pillow, wrapping her arms around it, laid on her stomach. How her thigh hikes up a bit, her sweater just barely covering her ass. The sheets have fallen off her, and she shivers for it. I move to pull the sheets over her body, her hair standing on end with the chill, but I pause when I see the look on her face.
She was not resting peacefully- that I could plainly tell. Her brow was scrunched, her shoulders raised in stress. Her teeth tugged at her lip, her fingers clenching on the pillow.
"Nephele?" I murmur dumbly. She thrashes a bit, the smallest movement as she sucks in a fearful breath, her legs squirming a bit under her.
"Please," she whispers in her sleep, her voice quivering. "Please, I'll be good. I promise."
I shiver then, laying my fingers on her ice cold cheek, wet with tears I hadn't even noticed. "Nephele," I whisper. "It's just a dream."
"Please. Please, don't hurt me again," her voice cracks, and my heart shatters in the same beat. Then, she jolts awake, a cold sweat building on her neck when my fingers graze it, falling from her skin as she rockets forward. Her eyes are wide and red as she looks around frantically.
"Hey," I whisper, cradling her face with my hands, her flinching under the initial contact before settling against my skin. "It's okay. It was just a nightmare, Sweetheart."
She swallows, meeting my eyes as her breath fumbles, her hands coming up to mine, keeping my fingers there as they begin to second guess themselves. "It wasn't just a nightmare," she says quietly, and I know what she means.
It was real. All of it. All her tremors and terrors were rooted in something true. Something that had happened to her before. The reason she flinched when people walked behind her. When people touched her too quickly without making eye contact first. The reason why she doesn't like locking her door or a room without any light.
"I know, Sweetheart," I whisper sadly, my thumbs rubbing her tears into her skin. "I can't change it, but I can vow it won't happen again. I can vow that you will have your revenge."
She nods, tipping her head against my chest, her brow freezing against my warm skin as she rights her breathing. "I've been so fucking cold all day," she admits quietly after a while. "I remember there were days in there when I didn't even wish to be free. I just wanted a damn blanket." She laughs dryly, shakily.
I slip a braid over her shoulder absentmindedly, letting my fingers graze her neck, plucking a breath from her throat, her shoulders rolling back a bit at the warmth. She looks up at me, her eyes wide and wanting as I slip my knuckles over the side of her face, studying the feeling of her skin against mine. Finding out what makes her breath catch.
Her pretty lips part, and I have trouble thinking of anything else. Her eyes flutter shut, and I think she might be holding her breath. I'm reminded then how little she has been touched in her life. Her body has been untarnished, like an ancient statue left in a forgotten ruin, covered in ivy and abandoned by the world.
Is it bad that I'm glad I'm the only one who has ever had the privilege to feel her skin like this before? Is it bad that I want to be the only person ever to touch her? Is it bad that I want to touch her other places?
Her hands squirm restlessly in her lap, her fingers sliding over her thighs that squeeze shut the slightest bit. I smile, running my thumb over her lip gently, wanting to sink my teeth into it. "Are you warmer now?" I ask quietly.
"I'm getting there," she murmurs, opening her bright, devious eyes up towards me, a smile on those pretty lips.
I chuckle quietly, rolling my eyes, laying back in defeat with a grand huff of breath as I pull her down onto my chest. She yelps cutely. "So needy," I click my tongue in distaste, smiling down at her. Her touch is as cold as I expected, her laugh tickling my chest as I wrap my arm around her.
"And they say you're good for nothing," she teases, tangling her legs with mine, sliding her palm to rest on my chest.
"Is that all I am to you?" I raise a teasing brow down at her where she smiles up at me. "A human furnace?"
"Of course not," she replies, patting my chest in condescension. "Furnaces don't speak so much when I'm trying to go to sleep."
I roll my eyes, shoving her face away, letting her burrow into the crook of my arm as I pull the covers over her body. "Goodnight then," I reply sarcastically.
She seems to giggle quietly, shaking her head. "Goodnight Eris," she says, amused, pressing a gentle kiss to the center of my chest.
She's asleep not even two minutes later, but I'm still left staring at her gorgeous, unguarded face as she finds true rest, a soft smile on her lips.