Just the crackle of fire and Mara’s quiet breathing and the presence of a village outside that knows my nature better than I do.
I close my eyes. Try to rest.
But sleep feels dangerous now. Because in sleep, I dream. And in dreams, I kiss women who aren’t mine to touch.
In dreams, the past has teeth.
Mara shifts on her pallet. A small sound escapes her… a sigh.
My eyes open.
Outside, the village settles into night. Inside, Mara’s breathing eventually evens.
And I keep watch over someone I have no right to protect.
Someone I’ve already failed.
Chapter 11
Mara
It takes me a while to get my bearings when I wake. Watery light through a small window. The smell of charred wood.
Cabin. Remote village.
Amnesiac rescuer.
Right.
Just another day in Mara-land.
The fire has burned low, ash and embers scattered about the hearth. My neck aches from the makeshift bed, and every muscle protests as I push myself upright.
K’s pallet is empty.
I frown, hating how that makes me feel. He’s gone. Just… gone. Without waking me, without a word.
I tell myself it doesn’t matter. That his absence is probably a relief after yesterday’s tense silence and the mortifying kiss that apparently meant nothing to him.
But the hollowness in my chest argues otherwise.
The borrowed shirt I’m wearing—his shirt—still carries his scent. Male. Wild. My body responds before my brain catches up, heat pooling low in my belly.
Stop it.
I move to the washbasin and do my best to scrub away the dirt of the past few days. Someone has laid out a set of new clothes on a shelf, and I’m not sure if I’m grateful or creeped out by the fact that they must have come in here while I was sleeping. I lean toward gratitude when it turns out that there’s a thick, warm shirt that actually fits, and heavy trousers that don’t need to be rolled up to my ankles. I pull on my boots, then reach for the cloak K lent me. Wrapping it around my shoulders feels like being held by him again. That furnace-heat of his skin, the way his arms anchored me against his chest while we walked.
God, I’m pathetic. Seeking comfort in fabric because the man who owns it won’t touch me. But it totally unsettles me that he’s not around right now. Like something in my chest has tightened, squeezing the air from my lungs.
Need to find him.
Not because I’m a pathetic little woman or anything. He’s just my best chance of getting out of these damned mountains alive.
Right?
Whatever.
The door protests with a creak as I push it open. Cold air hits my face immediately, sharp enough to make my eyes water. The sun is creeping over the tops of the mountains, touching them with glowing colors that would be beautiful if I wasn’t freezing my ass off.
