When Hermi felt her consciousness returning, she also felt her face pressed against something firm, warm, and smelling faintly of burnt sugar. Even with her mind drifting, the heat radiating through her skin told her exactly whose chest she was leaning against.
The men must have brought her back to the fortress after she collapsed. A flicker of unease coursed through her: had they collected every single drop of the Ash Beetle's hemolymph, or had they abandoned the harvest in their panic to rush her back to the Black Fortress?
As careless and powerless as they were, they had somehow managed to deliver her back to her husband's care. The slide of silk beneath her and the weight of thick fur above suggested she was now on the very bed in his own chamber.
