Daylight

Chapter 21

Elain surveyed the little space that had brought her so much joy. It had been decimated by the storm. Though Lucien had done a decent job of cleaning and clearing away all the debris and prepping the soil for new plants.

She hadn't even been surprised when she awoke in his room again, but by the grace of the Mother, he hadn't woken up. When she got up to go back to her room, she had seen all the clothes that Deidre had made in boxes and strewn about the floor, as if he'd dug through them looking for something specific.

She was relieved that he hadn't woken up, considering how restlessly he'd been thrashing around. When she'd come downstairs for breakfast, she had been surprised to see him outside, tilling her garden.

While she'd quietly eaten a bagel with smoked salmon and cream cheese, Cassian had teased her, asking, "So what did he do?"

"Excuse me?"

"He had to have made you mad to be out there working like a dog. We males aren't that complex."

"Horrible, disgusting creatures," Amren muttered as she took a bite of toast.

But Elain hadn't answered him. She'd just returned her attention to her mate. She suspected why he was out there, and it was because he'd upset her... but Cassian didn't need to know that.

Cassian whistled. "He must have really pissed her off," he muttered to Amren.

"Or perhaps he's a rare decent male who just wants to do something nice for her," she retorted.

Cassian watched Lucien for a beat and said, "No, he definitely pissed her off."

Elain wasn't entirely prepared to confront the lingering awkwardness that was bound to rest between her and Lucien, but she also couldn't tolerate the endless banter going on behind her. So, she went to the kitchen, poured an ice-cold glass of water, and went outside.

His back was to her when she stepped through the doorway but by the way he went rigid, she was certain he knew she'd come outside.

He slowly turned until they were facing one another. Her stomach was in knots over the way he seemed to wait, breath baited, for her to say something. Except she wasn't sure what to say.

His mouth was a tight line as he watched her assess the work he'd done.

"It was totally wrecked from the storm," he rushed to explain.

"I know," she said softly. "I saw it last night."

Lucien pulled at the back of his neck, clearly searching for something to say but taking care not to repeat his mistake from yesterday morning.

Elain suddenly remembered the glass of water she'd poured and offered it to him. "Have you had anything to drink since you came out here?"

"No," he admitted as he took the glass from her and drained it.

"Perhaps I should have brought the whole pitcher," she chuckled nervously.

Elain had almost brought out a plate of biscuits, suspecting that he'd also had nothing to eat this morning, but remembered what Feyre had told her about the significance of a female offering food to her mate. She wasn't quite ready for that yet.

Lucien took a shallow breath and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm. Elain couldn't help but notice that his arms—really, his whole upper torso—were solid toned muscles. She thought about the other night when she'd observed him sleeping. Of the broad, flat plane of his stomach. Of his hip bones exposed by the low waistline of his trousers...