I hated that he left, if only for a moment. But I kept quiet.
A dark, brittle part of me yearned to touch him again, to pull him closer, to see how it would feel to be wrapped up in his arms. To feel safe in the chaos I’d leapt into.
But what I wanted was an illusion. Whatever emotion I desired from those green eyes, whatever comfort I sought, would be fleeting, and ultimately, false.
I believed him when he said he didn’t want me to die. But that didn’t mean there weren’t other lies between us. Including my own.
No one could truly protect me except myself.
“Here,” Aiden said, draping his cloak over me. “Maz and Ruru are using the other blankets, so this is the best I can do.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.For everything.“How long will my wounds take to heal?”
He rubbed the dark bristle along his jaw, right where I’d touched him. “A few days, perhaps. Your head will mostly heal on its own with a little ointment. But you must tell me if you get dizzy or start to vomit.”
I grimaced. Gods, I really hoped I wouldn’t vomit in front of him again.“And my chest?”
“The clawberry paste knits skin back together without needle and thread. It’s also less likely to scar and sustain infection.”
My eyebrows shot up. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. That’s... that’s remarkable. Is it also from Twaryn? Why don’t more people have it?”
“It’s a very old remedy created by Viridana herself. The clawberries used to be very plentiful but were gathered nearly to extinction for their usefulness. Under the stringent care of the Twaryn forest dwellers, the berries have regrown in number.”
“Do you know the Twarynites well? I hear they only bow to the gods.”
Aiden nodded. “Especially to Viridana. It’s her forest, after all. I had a peaceful life among them. For a while.”
“Then what happened?”
A shadow darkened his gaze. “That’s a story for another time.”
A story he didn’t want to tell. Strangely, I hadn’t asked because I wanted to collect his secrets and use them. I simply wanted to know more about who he was.
“I should go,” he said quietly, rising.
“Why? Where?” I blurted out.
Gods, I sounded like a child. But the sudden roar of desperation in my chest was a beast I was too weak to tame at the moment.
Gods damn your little weaknesses.
“Do you wish me to stay?” he asked.
He was probably exhausted. I had no idea what part of the day it was. He should rest.
“Please,” I whispered. “Just a little longer.”
He immediately sat down. Keeping his enigmatic green gaze on me, he slipped one of his hands under mine and held it. Much as he had when he’d blindfolded me. My world felt darker now than it had then.
His callused thumb brushed over my scarred knuckles, the ridges in our skin nipping and tugging at each other.
Something about that simple touch unlocked a chasm of emotions inside me.
I stared at the dusty ceiling as tears escaped my eyes and trickled into my hair.
Suddenly, I didn’t care if this warmth between us couldn’t last. I wanted it. Ineededit. I embraced this little weakness. Because it didn’t feel like a weakness at all.
Instead, it gave me the courage to admit a secret of my own. “I wanted to give up,” I said, the words rough and raw. “In that last moment, when I thought death was coming for me, I wanted to die so I could see my mother again.”
