“Brace yourself,” he says when he steps toward me once more. “This is going to hurt.”
I bite down on my lower lip, thankful that he can’t see the way I cringe.
“It could be worse,” he says conversationally. “If you were a vampire, you would have already begun healing around the blade.”
My vision dims, and I turn my head, wishing I could take my helmet off. I need fresh air.
Agony explodes and I let out a choked scream. The healer sends a worried look toward the door. “Quiet now. The Primus is more on edge than I’ve ever seen him.”
“Oh yes, I’ll ensure my pain doesn’t discomfort the Primus.” My voice drips with sarcasm, but the healer merely nods, handing me a tonic.
“For the pain.”
I stare at him. “You couldn’t have given it to me before you ripped the knife out?”
“There’s a reason your helmet is still on, and if the Primus doesn’t want me to know who you are, then I won’t. I’ll turn my back, and you can take the tonic.”
He slowly turns, and I yank the helmet off, taking several deep breaths. The tonic tastes vaguely sweet, and I swallow it down.
“Finished?”
I shove the helmet back on my head. “Yes.”
The healer begins his chanting, but thanks to the tonic, the pain has receded to a dull ache. By the time he’s finished, I can limp my way to the door.
But Tiernon isn’t waiting for me. Rorrik is.
I sidle away from him, and he tuts, takes my arm and pulls me effortlessly down the hall. “None of that.”
“What are you doing?”
“My dear brother was ordered to return to dinner. He left you in my tender care.”
Rorrik must feel my disbelief, because one shoulder rises in a languid shrug. “We are capable of cooperating occasionally.”
Likely he’s made some kind of bargain with Tiernon. The thought of them working together is disconcerting.
“I can get myself back to the ludus.”
“Ah, but you smell delicious. All that terror and pain and blood. No one could be blamed for stealing a tiny taste if they were to find you alone.”
The image of Rorrik’s sharp white fangs sliding into the mundane’s wrist appears in my mind, and my traitorous body reacts, my blood heating.
My fingers dance toward the hilt of my dagger. “Oh yes they could.”
Rorrik just smiles. If Tiernon has trusted him with me tonight, then I’ll cooperate. Besides, I don’t think I have any fear left in me right now.
Clearly my mind is simply overwhelmed with everything I’ve seen tonight. That’s the only possible explanation for my reluctant fascination. The only possible excuse for finding Rorrik’s bite so … mesmerizing.
Thankfully, Rorrik is quiet as he walks me out of the palace. A guard bows his head. “The carriage is on its way, Your Imperial Highness.”
Rorrik nods, turning to face me as we wait.
“I’ve been studying you, little novice. From what I’ve seen, impulse control isn’t your strong suit, but tonight? Tonight was unrestrained even for you.”
The carriage pulls up in front of us, and the driver opens the door. Climbing into the carriage makes residual pain burn through my thigh, and I remove my helmet once more as Rorrik takes his seat in front of me.
“You know Bran has my brothers.” I’m not surehowhe knows, but Rorrik seems to know everything. And yet he hasn’t told Tiernon. Likely, he’s enjoying keeping the information to himself.
