“Watch well, Aiden.”
By the time I convinced Ruru he could have the next watch if he got some sleep, Maz’s snores thundered from the other room. Ruru could barely keep his eyes open as he cleaned the scrapes on his arms and coated them with the hornleaf sap I gave him to fight infection. He collapsed on my cot and was breathing deeply in minutes.
I dragged the extra cot next to Kiera and sat on it. I hated this windowless room with its low lamplight and stale air, but I needed to be at her side if she woke.
Whenshe woke.
As the hours dragged on, I found myself studying what I could see of her. The strong set of her shoulders dusted with freckles. The shine of her hair in its tangled braid. Those scarred fingers. Light, thieving, deadly. Would she hate what they had done? Would she hate me if I held her hand as Ruru had?
I wanted to. Gods damn it, I wanted to clutch her hand, touch her skin, gather her up in my arms. Anything to anchor this fierce woman to life.
But I resisted.
Instead, I memorized every detail of her face. The dark brown curves of her eyebrows and the stillness of her long lashes. The delicate sweep of her cheekbones and jawline. Her smooth, defiant chin. The flare of her straight nose. And her lips... curved and pink. And a little dry.
I rose quietly and dipped a rag into the pitcher of water in her room. I brushed it over her lips. They twitched, parting.
Elation pounded in my chest. I rushed back to the pitcher to fill a cup with water. Cradling her head in my hand, I nuzzled the cup between her lips.
“Drink,” I murmured to her.
After a moment, she took a sip, then another. She swallowed and began to gulp greedily.
I drew back the cup. “Easy. Go slow, little thief.”
She whimpered, and I dripped more water into her mouth. Finally, her eyes fluttered open. There. That was what I’d been missing. Those beautiful amber eyes that glowed with the light of her soul.
Even if it quickly dimmed as she remembered.
“Aiden?” Her voice cracked. “Where’s Ruru?” Tears beaded in her eyes.
My heart softened, as if she’d caressed it. “He’s safe, sleeping in the next room with Maz. You saved his life.”
Her face crumpled with pain and exhaustion. “Everything hurts. What—” She lifted her hand toward her chest. “What is this?”
I grabbed her hand, gently guiding it back to her covered stomach. “Don’t touch it. You have a long gash across your chest, but my paste will heal it.”
Her eyes widened, and she tucked her chin to look downward. “You... you took my shirt.”
“We kept you covered as best we could. No leering. I swear on Maz’s three sisters who would cut out my eyes if I were lying.” Though I had been admiring everything else I could see.
She nodded, her relief fleeing under the current of more pain. But she didn’t reach this time. “My head,” she whispered.
“He hit you hard, but you’re awake and talking and remembering, which is the best we could hope for.”
She closed her eyes. “It doesn’t feel that way.” Her chin scrunched, and she turned her face away from me.
The muffled sound of her crying nearly undid me.
Whoever this woman was, whatever reason she kept her path twined with mine, her heart was good. And I found myself yearning for a piece of it. But how could I want that when I had nothing to offer in return?
I handed her a dry rag. “Don’t disturb the paste,” I reminded her.
She slowly dabbed at her face. “He was the first person I’ve ever . . . ever . . .”
Killed. I ground my teeth together.
Fucking Four. Why had she insisted on staying in Aquinon? I’d warned her. Death followed me. Death was everywhere. And now it clung to her too.
