Saving Verakko: The Clecanian Series Book 3 by Victoria Aveline (books to read for teens TXT) 📕

underbelly of the mountain would’ve been expensive and difficult, but mostly because only a Swadaeth could access the tunnels using a drop of their venom—and Swadaeth didn’t need light.

He’d only been walking with Lily clasped in his arms for a few minutes, yet it concerned him that the bitter scent of her fear had not abated.

“Don’t worry, I can see. I’ve got you.”

Lily’s body stiffened. “Let me down.”

Reluctantly, he did.

Once her feet hit the floor, she hissed. “Shit, it’s cold. Where are my shoes?” She reached out in the dark, her hands landing on his bare torso. Her fingers flexed before she removed them. Gripping her wrist, he guided her shoes into her hand, then held her steady while she slipped them on. Her skin was as cold as ice.

“There are rooms with hot springs along this route. I visited one a long time ago when I joined my mother’s convoy to Sauven.”

Lily remained quiet, but he could see her eyes darting around, unseeing and wide. She was shaking again. He made to wrap his arms around her, but she pushed away, shaking her head. “Let’s just get to somewhere we can stay the night.”

They spent the next hour walking in silence. He tugged Lily behind him, her hand clasped in his. His insides twisted at the contact, knowing she was only allowing the touch because she couldn’t see on her own.

Something had clicked in him back there during the attack. Lily was his. He had no doubts. But just because he was certain didn’t mean she would want him, and even if she did, he couldn’t ensure they’d be able to be together, at least not right now. He had to convince her to wait for him. He couldn’t see another way.

A dim blue glow illuminated the path ahead of them, and he pulled her in front of him. “Do you see that light? The spring is there.”

She tugged her hand out of his and walked away. Had he already lost his chance? Every instinct in him urged him to run after her, take her into his arms, and hold her until she softened against him the way she’d done before. But things felt different now. She was quiet and introspective and, if her scent was any indication, scared.

Normally, a mass of emotions played over her face whenever he looked at her, but now, her eyes appeared almost vacant, devoid of all feeling. Verakko jabbed his fingers through his hair and shuffled after her. Goddess, he’d never wanted to know a person’s innermost thoughts more than he did right now.

She reached the sealed entrance to the spring and stared up at the moss growing along the ceiling. It glowed a warm electric blue and could be found in the tunnel near any damp, warm, dark place.

Verakko activated the entry pad with another drop of venom and pushed the door inward. A blast of thick, steamy air burst out, and Lily released a small sigh of pleasure. She rushed inside and stared at the large glowing pool of steaming water.

He should wait outside, give her time to herself to collect her thoughts, but he couldn’t. He followed her in and shut the door, drawn to her like a magnet. The idea of letting her out of his sight after seeing her almost get taken away from him for good was unthinkable.

Verakko scanned the vaguely familiar room. The luminous moss grew in the cracks and corners of the stone walls and up into its high, domed ceilings. The light from it pulsed like glimmering veins and cast the hazy room in soft blue light. He bent to unlatch his boots, then toed them off, resolved to spend the night in the warmth.

Lily turned to him and ran her gaze over his bare chest. Verakko straightened, never as uncomfortable with a female’s assessment of him as he was now. Her jaw was clenched tightly in an inscrutable expression. She leveled her impassive gaze on his and swallowed.

“You…” She blinked and swallowed again. “You have blood on you,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper.

Verakko’s attention shot downward, and he found streaks, almost black in the dim light, across his forearms and chest. Was that why she was acting so strangely, because he’d killed that soulless Strigi?

He rushed to the edge of the pool and rinsed himself, but he kept his eyes trained on Lily. She didn’t turn to watch him, just stood rooted in place like a statue. Then she peered down at her shirt—his shirt—and, as though roused from a bad dream, began to struggle, trying to remove the wet fabric clinging to her skin.

Verakko crossed to her in an instant and helped her pull both his shirt and hers over her head, trying to keep his eyes averted from the thin scrap of see-through fabric covering her breasts. He threw the shirts out of sight while she splashed water on her neck and chest, ridding it of the blood that wasn’t there.

“Are you still hurt?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Hurt?” He scanned his own body, wondering if he’d been injured and hadn’t realized it. No injuries, he concluded. Was she asking out of concern for him? “No. I feel fine.”

She nodded, mollified, yet the look of barely contained anger on her face remained.

He reached out to her when she stood, but she slapped his hand away, then glared up into his eyes.

His heart picked up speed, and a small spike of anger went through him. Was she really upset with him for killing that male? A growl rumbled in his chest before he could contain it. “I had no choice, Lily,” he said with deadly calm.

Her face morphed into one of outraged disbelief. “No choice?” She took a step toward him. He took a step back. “No choice?” she repeated, taking