Chapter 6 Possession

Theron's pov

She fell asleep again.

Three minutes after Drystan walked through the door and lowered himself to his knees like a sword being laid on an altar. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Iris sat up in the bed when he entered. My jacket was still wrapped around her and her silver hair was a wild mess and she had the audacity to cross her arms and simply just wait. She did not speak. She did not gloat. She simply raised one eyebrow and looked at him like he was a bug she was deciding whether to squash.

Drystan's jaw tightened. His crimson eye and his silver eye both fixed on the floor.

"I was wrong," he said.

"Louder," Iris said.

"I was wrong."

"I still cannot hear you."

Drystan's hands curled into fists but he did not move. "I was wrong to accuse you. Wrong to drag you here. Wrong to assume your guilt based on nothing but fear and grief."

Iris tilted her head. She let the silence stretch until it hurt. Then she nodded once.

"Good." She pointed at the door. "Now get out. I am tired and cold and I want to sleep without a vampire breathing down my neck."

Drystan stood. His expression was unreadable but something flickered behind his mismatched eyes. Something that looked too much like respect.

He glanced at me on his way out and his lips twitched. "She is terrifying."

"I know."

"Good luck."

And with that he was out of the door.

I looked at Iris as she was smiling. A small private smile that she was trying very hard to hide behind a blank expression. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were pink and she looked like a cat who had just eaten a very satisfying canary.

"You enjoyed that," I said.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"You made a three-thousand-year-old vampire kneel."

"He made himself kneel. I simply... supervised."

I laughed. The sound surprised me. It came from somewhere soft and vulnerable and I could not find it in myself to care.

She looked at me then. Her smile faded and something else took its place. Something quiet. Something wondering. Her violet eyes traced my face like she was memorizing it and her lips parted like she wanted to say something.

Yet she did not say it.

Instead she smiled again. A smile that said I see you without saying a word. A smile that made my chest ache and my shadows go still and my heart forget how to beat.

I knew then that she had noticed.

Noticed the way I sat by her bed all night. Noticed the way my hands shook when I touched her face. Noticed the way I looked at her like she was the sun and I had been living in the dark for three hundred years.

Christ, how many days have I known her?

She noticed everything.

And she did not run.

That was enough. That was more than enough. That was everything.

Drystan returned an hour later.

He knocked this time. His robes were rumpled and his perfect black hair had a leaf in it. There was blood on his cuffs and exhaustion in both his eyes.

"The port master?" I asked quietly as if I knew.

"Dead. His throat was cut from ear to ear." Drystan leaned against the doorframe. His silver eye found Iris's sleeping face.

She had drifted off again. Her hand was curled under her cheek and her breath came soft and slow. "The trail went cold at the water's edge."

"Nothing?"

"One thing." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver coin. It glowed faintly in the dim light and I felt my blood freeze. "Pinned to the port master's chest was a message."

I took it. The coin was ancient. On one side a weeping star. On the other a single word in a language I had not seen since my father died. The elves were connected to the Faes one way or another. But this wasn't about the weeping star connecting the elves.

Ashveil.

My blood went cold.

"Theron." Drystan's voice was careful. "Why would a murderer leave your family crest?"

I stared at the coin. The shadows stirred in my blood and I heard Iris breathing softly in the bed behind me.

"I do not know," I said finally. "Several members of my family has been dead for hundreds of years. The Ashveil line ends with me literally."

Drystan studied me for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly. "I believe you. But the council will not be so easily convinced. Serena is already spreading rumors."

"Serena can say whatever she wants."

Drystan glanced at Iris again. His gaze lingered on her face and something shifted in his expression. Something soft. Something curious. Something that looked too much like interest.

"Wake her," he said. "The council is convening. They want answers."

I stood up and moved between him and the bed. Not fast. Not aggressive. Just enough to block his view of her.

"She will come when she is ready."

"The council will not wait."

"Then the council can sit in their bone thrones and tap their fingers and grow old for all I care." My voice was low. "She used too much magic. She needs rest."

Drystan's eyebrows went up. "You are protective."

"I am practical."

"You are staring at her like she hung the moon."

Yet I couldn't say anything.

Drystan's lips curved. "I have lived three thousand years, Theron. I know what a man looks like when he has fallen and cannot find his way back up."

"Are you finished?"

"Not even close." He stepped around me and walked toward the bed. "But I will save the rest for later. Wake her. Gently. We have work to do."

He reached for her shoulder and I caught his wrist immediately.

The touch was light. Barely there. But my shadows unfurled from my skin and wrapped around his arm and Drystan went very still.

"Do not," I said, "touch her."

"I was going to wake her."

"Her name is Iris. Use it. And wake her with your voice like a civilized monster."

Drystan stared at me. Then he looked at my shadows coiled around his wrist. Then he looked at Iris's sleeping face.

"You are in love with her," he said.

"I am not having this conversation."

"You are. You just do not know it yet."

He pulled his hand free and stepped back. He did not touch her again.

I knelt beside the bed instead. I brushed a strand of silver hair from her face and her nose wrinkled then she made a small sound of protest.

"Iris," I said softly. "Wake up."

Her eyes fluttered open. The purple in them was hazy and confused. Then she saw my face and her expression cleared and she smiled.

That smile.

Small and sleepy yet trusting.

It nearly killed me.

"We have to go," I said. "The council is waiting."

She sat up slowly. My jacket fell off one shoulder and she pulled it back up and yawned.

"Did Drystan apologize properly?"

"He knelt."

"Good." She swung her legs off the bed and stood. Her knees wobbled and I caught her elbow without thinking. She leaned into me for a moment. Just a moment. Then she straightened and smoothed her hair and looked at Drystan with narrowed eyes. "If anyone asks, I made you cry."

"I did not cry."

"The story will say you cried. I am very convincing."

Drystan stared at her. Then he laughed. A real laugh. It transformed his face and made him look almost young.

"You are impossible," he said.

"I have been told."

She walked toward the door. Her steps were steady but her hands were shaking. I saw it. Drystan saw it. She was putting on a brave face and doing a terrible job of hiding how exhausted she truly was.

I caught up to her in three strides. My hand found the small of her back. Gentle. Steady. She looked up at me and her expression softened.

"You do not have to do this alone," I said quietly.

"I know."

"Then let me help."

She considered this. Then she nodded once and leaned back into my hand just slightly. Just enough for me to feel her warmth through my jacket.

Then we walked out together.

The council chamber was full.

Kaelen Bloodmoor sprawled in his wolf throne with his golden eyes hard. Serena sat in her crypt-throne with her arms crossed and her mouth set in a thin line. The other heirs filled the remaining seats. And Lord Caldor stood at the center with his ancient eyes fixed on Iris.

She did not flinch.

She walked to the center of the chamber with her chin high and her shoulders back and my jacket still hanging off her frame like a dress three sizes too big. She looked small and ridiculous and utterly unstoppable.

"Iris of the Starborn," Caldor said. "You stand accused of murdering Elian Vane. What do you say?"

She looked at Drystan. Then she looked at Serena. Then she looked at the bone thrones and the silver flames and the faces of people who had already decided she was guilty.

"I say," she said slowly, "that I found your killer. I gave you his location. And if you had listened to me instead of throwing me in a cell, he might still be in chains instead of sailing away on a boat."

Murmurs rippled through the chamber.

"You found him?" Kaelen leaned forward. "How?"

Iris raised her hand. Her palm glowed with faint starlight. "I have magic. The kind that sees things. The kind that tracks things. The kind that your people do not have."

Serena stood. "She is lying. Elves cannot track. They can only heal and glow and make themselves look innocent."

Iris turned to face her then she walked toward Serena's throne. One step. Two steps. Three.

I held her back lovingly as she moved.

My hand found her waist. Not hard. Not grabbing. Just a gentle pressure that said I am here and do not go too far. She glanced at me and I shook my head once. Small. Almost invisible.

She stopped.

But she did not back down.

"I do not know you," Iris said to Serena. "I do not know why you hate me or what I did to earn your attention. But I am tired and really cold. And I am done defending myself against people who have already made up their minds."

After saying that, she turned her back on Serena. Walked back to the center of the chamber. And found me with her eyes.

"Theron brought me here because he promised I would be safe." Her voice cracked on the last word. Just a little. "Was he lying?"

Silence.

I stepped forward before anyone else could speak. My shadows spread across the floor and climbed the walls and the torches flickered and the heirs leaned back in their thrones.

"I was not lying," I said.

"I am safe here?"

"You are safe anywhere I am."

She looked at me for a long moment. Her violet eyes searched my face and found something that made her exhale slowly.

"Okay," she said. "Okay."

She walked toward the doors. She did not look back at the council or the heirs or the headmaster. She walked out like she owned the place and I followed her because there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

Drystan caught up to us in the hallway.

"Iris."

She stopped or even turn around.

"I meant what I said," Drystan told her. "I was wrong. And I will spend however long it takes proving that I can be trusted."

She turned then. Her expression was unreadable.

"Good," she said. "Start by finding out who is framing Theron and I."

She looked at me. Her smile returned. Small and soft and full of something I was afraid to name.

Then she walked away.

I started after her and Drystan grabbed my arm.

"You are going to follow her?"

"Yes."

"To her dormitory?"

"Yes."

"You know that makes you look insane."

"I do not care."

I pulled free and walked after her and caught up at the bottom of the stairs. She was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed and her breath coming too fast.

"Iris?"

"I am fine." She opened her eyes. "I just... need a moment."

She was not fine. Her hands were shaking and her face was pale and she was swaying on her feet.

I scooped her up without thinking and she yelped. Her arms went around my neck in seconds and her eyes went wide.

"What are you doing?"

"Carrying you."

"I can walk."

"You can barely stand."

"I am perfectly capable..."

"You found a murderer with magic. You made a vampire kneel. You stared down an entire council in nothing but my jacket." I started up the stairs. "You are allowed to be tired, Iris. You are allowed to rest."

She stared at me. Her mouth opened and closed and opened again.

Then she rested her head on my shoulder.

"Fine," she mumbled. "But if anyone sees us, I am telling them you kidnapped me."

"They will believe you."

"Good."

She closed her eyes. Her breath evened out and her body went soft against mine and by the time I reached the fourth floor, she was asleep.

I carried her to her room. I laid her on her bed. I pulled the blanket over her and tucked it around her shoulders and stood there for a long moment just watching her breathe.

Then I sat down in the chair by her window.

I would stay.

Not because she asked me to. Not because I expected anything in return.

Because she smiled at me like I mattered.

And no one had smiled at me like that in three hundred years.