Chapter thirty - seven - Tibith the protector

My eyes flutter open as a path of sun gleams through the windows, warming me up. Achingly, I lift my hand to shield the light and frown at the unfamiliar wood-paneled ceiling. I decide to tilt my head to the side of me but widen my eyes when I come across two large obsidian ones blinking at me. "Hello, again, Miss Nara!"

Tibith.

I'm facing Tibith, which means—

"Darry t-told me your name wasn't Miss Misty." His ears flap in disappointment, and his fur glows at every hit of sunray. "I quite liked that name. It sounded magical—"

"Why am I here?" I demand, but my voice comes across hoarse as I sit up from a pile of blankets. Suddenly I wince at a dull pain in my lower abdomen, and as I glance at it, my fingers feather over the newly wrapped bandages.

"Because I saved your life," Comes Darius's answer, sharp and deadly. I whip my head up and gaze at the far end of what looks to be a cottage where Darius rests one leg on the wooden table, sinking back against the chair. His golden-skinned chest peeks through his black linen shirt, and not knowing what to do, the first thing I search for is a weapon.

"If you're looking for something to stab me with—" He doesn't look my way as he flips a coin. "—I'd advise against it. I'm not up for winning another fight with you this time."

It was him, the dragon who'd fought the creature. He took me back to his. "Why did you save me?" A whisper of some sort.

"I was feeling heroic." Eyes dart to me, and he grins. "If I wanted you dead, I would have done it myself a long time ago."

I narrow my eyes, shifting between him and my sheath lying in the middle of the table. "You told me you preferred the idea of hunting me down, and here months later, you've saved me. Even bargained with me though you lied straight to my face about it, and then... then you gifted my brother a stone to pay off my debt."

He chuckles, looking away. "I see that my powers were too weak to work on your brother then."

In the corner, Tibith scoffs down bread on his small made bed, entirely in a world of his own. I take a forceful deep breath, staring at Darius. "I'd have found out eventually."

He shrugs it off. "Eventually."

I roll my eyes at how he manages always to find a way to aggravate me, even in these circumstances. "You're incredibly annoying, like a persistent cough that won't go away."

"And you're always so rude, Goldie. Never a 'thank you, Darius, for all the times you've saved me from certain death' with you."

"Twice." I have the need to remind him, not wasting my time to scold him on his high-pitch imitation. "You've only saved me twice."

"Good to know you can count." He catches the coin in his hand, and a clinking noise sounds. "I was beginning to think your brain could only comprehend the simplest of things."

Funny, very funny.

I pinch my face into a forceful smile at him. He's a thief, an Impertinent one, and maybe he's killed, done everything to survive for twenty-five years. But dangerous enough to hide away from him and make him out to be the worst sounds like it's what he wants others to believe.

At least from what I've witnessed so far.

"How did you know where I was?" I ask with a sigh, offering a change of subjects.

His boot slides off the table, and this time I notice the black walnut wood, expensive but beautiful to carve on. "I was nearby and caught your scent up until you covered yourself in mud," he says. "Though it appears this creature can cover their scents just like us shifters."

I nod slowly, looking at the dried-up mud still all over me. Remnants of a moment where I felt twelve years old again. "Is the—is the creature—"

"Dead?" He finishes off and shakes his head. "No... It retreated to wherever it came from." A tick in his jaw makes me believe he's disappointed that he didn't get to kill it.

We don't speak for a few heartbeats until I notice a cut on his wrist, fresh but healing fast. I look at the bandages on my stomach and ask, "Did you do this?"

"You were feverish, and your wound wasn't going to heal on its own, so... I gave you some of my blood."

My brows shoot up as I mutter, "Ironic." And watch his lips twitch at that before I'm stretching my legs. I then steady myself onto my feet and press my lips together, hiding a wince though somewhat of a grunt escapes.

Darius is off the chair by the time I'm fully standing, making his way towards me. My head tilts up to meet his heavy gaze, and a sudden flicker in my stomach goes off as his palm skims my back. I distance myself in a matter of seconds, wrapping my arms across my wound. "I um—I can stand on my own."

He rubs the nape of his neck, and I'm surprised he's not giving me any hint of playfulness or mockery for that. He glances back at the table as he says, "You should wash that mud off." Averting his eyes, he gestures his head behind me. "There are spare clothes over there if you want to change into something else."

I look over my shoulder at the bundle of gold coins, crystals, and books splaying along the floor. To the right is a teal kirtle with laces at the front, draping over a cabinet. "Do I want to know where you got that from?" I ask dryly, shifting my gaze to see his golden eyes burning in irrepressible mischief—his usual self.

"You'd hate me more if I told you."

Understanding him clearly, I scoff and snatch the dress from the furniture. Darius grins at my testy attitude and points to the left. "Down the hall, only other room in the entire cottage."

He eyes me as I storm away with little to no pain anymore from my wound. I pass the hall, and I wonder how if there is only one room being the bath chambers and the rest of the cottage, mainly holding stolen goods, where does Darius sleep? Tibith has his own space, and if people come here regularly—

I shake my head at the stupidity of those thoughts and enter the bath chambers, shutting the door behind. A tub lies in the Centre filled with water already like he'd done it prior to me waking up. Buckets are to the side of it, and a rosewood scent rises from the soaps inside.

Dropping the kirtle, I begin stripping, the leather sticks to uncomfortable parts of my body that I find relief once I'm completely naked. My hands grab the ends of the bandages, peeling them off, and as I look at where the branch had impaled me, I take a breath of surprise. Nothing but a scar line already starting to disappear.

My brows narrow as I glance at the door, then at my hand where the other scar lies. Mud covers most of it, but for half a second, I'd thought Darius's blood could have healed that too.

How delusional and selfish of me to want that.

I sigh, walking up to the tub. I dip my fingers into the water, thinking it'd be ice cold instead, it's warm. Boiling almost. He must have used his Ardenti powers to keep it heated. I want to yell at him for that, not partly sure why.

I climb in, lowering myself. Candles blow among the sides, and I pick one of the soap bars, scrubbing to get rid of the dirt on my body. It's then, when I close my eyes to go underwater, that it all comes to me like thunder striking those memories back to life.

Everything sounds louder, the movement of water rippling, the steam hissing as I think of that creature. For nine years, I believed a dragon killed my father, nine years that I loathed them, nine years hoping to one day kill one myself.

And I did

But now I wish I hadn't.

My throat burns, wanting to turn back time and save the dragon before she was captured. My lungs tighten at the mess everything has turned out to be. I don't know where to go from here; I never imagined I'd end up in a shifters cottage after almost dying.

Knowing I've been under too long, I resurface, gasping for air. I drag my hands over my hair, and spots blur my vision until I spot something orange in the corner of my eye.

"Tibith!" I screech when I see him standing so still. I cover my breasts with my arms and cross my legs together. "You're not supposed to be in here." I shift my gaze to the door, annoyed I hadn't locked it.

A crinkle above Tibith's eyes forms as he plops onto the floor. For a creature that lacks certain features and is covered in bright fur, it's outstanding how expressive he can be. "But-but Darry assigned me as your second protector last night."

"Did he now?" My eyes slit humorously, wishing to have heard that conversation. "And is watching me while I bathe protecting me?"

Tibith's eyes glisten like a child as he inclines his head and whispers, "You could drown Miss Nara."

A few minutes ago, I might have. I don't say that, but I do smile, whispering back, "I think I'll be safe inside this tub for now."

He angles his head, staying quiet for a moment. "Can I tell you a secret, Miss Nara?"

I look at where my hands are and flick my eyes up at him. "Now?"

He nods, standing and shuffling towards me. Opening his mouth, his fangs poke out, and he quickly closes it looking back at the door then at me again. "I don't think you're a creature murderer anymore."

His innocence makes me chuckle. It's a breath of fresh air from what I do think of myself. "Is that what Darius still thinks?" The question slips out, and my brows pull together. It shouldn't matter if he does or not.

"Darry could never think that, Miss Nara," Tibith says, turning to walk away, which only causes my brows to crease further and my mind to tie in knots.

"Tibith?" I call out at the last second, and he spins around. "There's no need to call me Miss. Just Nara is fine." My smile is sincere, and his ears twitch.

"Okay, Miss Nara!" He smiles, and I release a small laugh as he shuts the door.

I'm not sure how much longer I spend in the bath but as soon as I get out, I dry myself. I bend down to grab the kirtle, pausing midway when I see a dark brown shirt and breeches hanging off the hook.

I let go of the dress immediately, reaching for the other set of clothes. Bunching them up in my hands, the corner of my lip lifts into an impish smile. Well, I doubt the kirtle will fit me anyway.

***

I step into the living area, smoothing the thinness of the shirt and clear my throat. Darius looks up from the kitchen, stirring a pan before he stops, and his eyes rake the snugness of my attire.

"What?" I ask calmly, waltzing towards the table as Tibith blinks at me from the side. "Upset, I'm wearing your clothes instead?"

"Oh, I'm not upset." Darius folds his arms over his chest. His bottom lip puckers as his gaze ponder on them and then gives me a roguish smile. "They're not mine."

I pull a face, disgusted, as I sit. "Of course, they're not. I should have known. It's you, after all," I grumble, grabbing my sheath and checking to see if my carving is still inside one of the pockets. Thankfully it is.

He ladles soup into a bowl and sets it before me as well as a chunk of bread for Tibith. He takes a seat opposite me and narrows his eyes with mirth. "Sounds to me like you're jealous, Goldie."

He wishes.

"That's not me jealous," I deadpan, placing the sheath back down. "it's me repulsed by you."

Tibith's child-like gasp becomes mumbled as he gobbles up all the bread, and Darius smirks at me before I'm glancing at the bowl of soup with a scowl on my face.

"Relax, it's not poisoned or anything," he says, but that wasn't my initial thought. I was more startled.

Still, I lift a brow at him. "And I'm supposed to believe that?"

He shoots me a withering look. "Why would I save you, go through the effort of tending your wounds for then to just finish you off with some poisoned broth?"

I bite the inside of my cheek to not laugh at how offended he sounds.

"Look, if you don't want it, what else would you like—" He leans forward, clasping his hands together on the table. A sardonic smile graces his lips. "—Your majesty?"

My frown at that title dissolves into something superior. "My favorite... strawberry pie."

He tilts his head slightly that the sun bounces off his hair and raven strands shine. What I had said seems to delight him. "Sadly, we don't have that here, Goldie."

I shrug my shoulders, taking the spoon and dipping it into the soup. "I thought so."

He chuckles, leaning back just as I freeze, swallowing the rich taste of herbs and spices. A shiver skitters across my arms and neck but not the kind I've felt before when I'd faced the queen down in the dungeons or the creature last night; if not, it's a great one—a shiver of memories.

I stare at the broth and sigh because it tastes exactly how my mother used to make it.

"Thinking of ways to say how disgusting it is?" He teases, and I glare at him, taking another spoonful this time and trying not to show how badly I want to down it all.

"I suppose it's not the worst I've tasted."

He hums like he knows I'm lying, and I continue eating, savoring each mouthful before dropping the spoon and looking at him.

"The queen knows I helped you," I barely say, but he doesn't look surprised; he just keeps his eyes on me.

"Figured." He takes out another coin and spins it at the tip of his finger. "Stealing had never been too easy than it was then. At least she didn't hang you after all."

No, she did worse.

The reminder of what happened the next day after Noctura must be obvious because Darius's brow arches in suspicion.

I turn my head, prying my eyes away from his. I fear if I stared too long, he'd get it out of me: cheater and whatnot. "You should be careful," I say. "She seems to know what she's doing. There's a tree—"

"So, you did end up deciding the queen wasn't one to trust."

My gaze cuts to him, and I nod. "I know more of her story. There are just missing pieces I need to resolve."

He releases a sigh, borderline tired as he focuses on the table. "If you think I have all the answers, I don't. Sarilyn is known for her conniving ways within us shifters. We've heard from what others have said... witnessed during that time. But no one will know the true extent of it other than the queen and the Rivernorths if they had lived."

"Or the Elven king," I add with no hesitation, his head lifts, and he frowns. He must not have known that part. Glancing around the cottage, my eyes connect with the fire hearth, and beside it is a wooden chest displaying the crystal I'd once used to lure him. And next to that is the Rivernorth pendant.

"I'm assuming she took it from a Rivernorth when she killed them rather than had it gifted to her," I say more to myself as I stare at the gold luster of it, remembering what she'd said after the meal.

Darius's silence urges me to look at him, but his gaze is on the pendant, an expression so bleak in which I wonder what thoughts must be crossing his mind.

"Darry." Tibith tugs at his shirt, gaining his full attention and shaking off whatever look he'd had. "The den."

"Den?" I inquire with curiosity, placing my elbows on the table and folding my hands under my chin. "Is that another place where you keep more of your stolen treasures?"

Darius chuckles quietly, staring at me like he's deciding whether to say what he's thinking. "Well... would you like to see the supposed stolen treasures?"

"Is that a trick question?"

Rolling his eyes, he tips his head back. "You know, I think it's time you stop wondering if I'm going to attack you halfway through a conversation—"

"Like we have ever had a normal conversation—"

The chair scrapes among the wood as he stands. "I don't have all day, Goldie, and most likely, your little anti shifter army is out looking for you. So will you be joining me, or would you like to go back and keep pretending you're just like them?"

I inch back, sliding my arms off the table while blinking at his words. His brow cocks up, and I think about Freya, Link, Rydan. If he'd gotten back to the barracks and warned them all. Then... my mind goes to Lorcan. He must be terribly worried while I'm here with whom they deem their enemy.

Yet that small curious side of me itches to go with Darius. Inhaling grandly, I swipe my sheath off the table and rise, pointing my finger at him. "This still doesn't make us friends."

He grins as I start walking for the entrance and says, "I would hate nothing more than the idea of being your friend, Goldie."