A Court of Dark and Decay

Chapter 32- Living Death

Nesta dreamt that a woman with feathered wings had pushed her into a bonfire. Her skin burned, her eyes melted and her hair crisped. She could smell herself burning alive. 

So when she awoke to the smell of smoke, she sat straight up, the pain searing her very bones. 

Somethins was smothering her, stuck to her skin and...soft. 

A blanket. She was in bed. 

The fireplace roared safely across the room. And the smoke she smlet was Cassian. 

She was in Cassian's bed, in his room, in Henery's house.  

Nesta took deep breaths, forcing herself back into her body. Back into the world. Fast, heavy, footsteps from down the hall firmly planted her back into reality. 

Cassian standing in the doorway wearing an apron almost made her smile. 

But she didn't. 

The Illyrian rushed foreward, perching on the side of the bed. He set the mug of tea he was holding on the side table. 

The closness of his arm as he reached right beside her to the side table, the way she could feel his eyes digging into her, and when he pulled back from the table he lay a gentle hand on one of Nesta's knees.

She shrunk back, tucking her knees under herself and scooting away from him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the look on Nesta's face made Cassian revaluate his words. 

No worry left his face even as he said, "Do you always wake up screaming?" 

"Only when you're around." Nesta spat. 

Cassian was never good at hiding his feelings. His face was a page of one of her books, she could read and reread forever. So the sadness that flashed across his features was impossoble to miss. 

Nesta looked away. "What am I doing in here?" 

She heard the sheets shift, and sparring a glace saw that Cassian had his back to her, his wings draped across the bed. Relaxed. 

No, defeated. 

He was hunched over, elbows braced on his knees and head down. 

But still, he spoke. 

"You were with Jaida. She said you were, " A deep exhale. "Practicing your magic." 

Cassian threw a glace over his shoulder. 

"You lost it, let the magic control you instead of the other way around. That happens a lot in beginners with a heavy power load. But you know what can prevent that?" 

Nesta grunted in repsonse.  

"Siphons, Nesta." Cassian turned, pulling out the set of opals from his pocket. The jewlery gleamed in the firelight, the purples and oranges taungting Nesta as Cassian held them out. 

"You haven't been wearing them. Don't think I haven't noticed." He set the siphons on the sidetable. 

Nesta huffed a laugh, cruel and sharp, and flung the covers off her. She got off the bed- the opposite side of Cassian- and started toward the fire. 

She didn't hear Cassian move. "Why aren't you wearing them?" 

"Why do you care?" The words escaped her before she could stop them. 

A pause. A deep breath.

"You didn't just ask me that." Cassian was ready, dancing on his feet as he stood.