Toward him.
14
EVEN MONSTERS SLEEP
This was insane.
I’d watched him end lives like people snuffed candles, but he’d also thrown himself between me and those claws without hesitation. My throat tightened as I took in the damage—blood streaming down his armor. The executioner was bleeding for me.
“You saved me,” I whispered.
He wiped his blade, sheathing it with a sharp click.
“I would’ve died.”
He rose to his feet. “Yes.”
I flinched. “You didn’t have to protect me.”
“Should I have let the fellcat rip you apart?”
I blinked. “No. I just didn’t expect it.”
A claw jutted out from his side, as long as my thumb and curved like a sickle. The wound was a mess of torn flesh and shredded leather.
He gripped the claw and yanked. A snarl tore from his chest as the barbed edge caught.
“Don’t!” I lurched forward. “You’re making it worse.”
Mist coiled tighter around his shoulders, tendrils writhing in agitation, but he stilled beneath my touch.
I seized the base of the claw. It was lodged in deep, and the angle was wrong; he’d been pulling against the curve. I adjusted my grip, tilted it slightly, and felt the resistance shift. With one tug, the claw gave way with a sickening wet sound. Blood flooded the wound. Then he began to glow. It started under his ribs, the red light pulsing through a large rune. Slowly, the gash knit itself together.
“You heal fast,” I murmured.
His hand lingered where my fingers had been. “I need to clean up. All this blood will draw more vicious things than fellcats.”
He turned into the trees. Running was an option, but a poor one. My boots were heavy with mud, and I’d never survive these woods alone. So I followed until the trees broke around a hot spring.
Steam drifted off the surface of the water. He unbuckled his armor, and the plates crashed into the ground. Every last bit of the Crown’s steel. A rune on his shoulder flared. Then he waved an arm, and the armor vanished into puffs of air.
He peeled off his shirt.
My throat went dry. His torso was lean muscle packed into a frame built for killing, not beauty.Look away.The command screamed in my mind, but my eyes stayed fixed on him.
His thumbs hooked the waistband of his trousers. The fabric slid down, baring the strong curve of his ass, the flex of his thighs. Heat pooled low in my belly, and my skin prickled with shame.
Steam rose to greet him like it knew its master, coilingaround his back. He looked like a god returning to his temple. My pulse raced faster.
And the runes.
They crisscrossed his chest, wrapped his ribs, climbed the column of his neck like vines. Pale silvery lines that caught the light. Dark, angry marks. Some as delicate as spiderwebs. Others jagged and brutal. Each one summoned a different magic, making him a more efficient predator.
I couldn’t stop staring and counting them, wondering how much pain each had cost him.
Every instinct warned not to get too close, but my dress was caked with dirt and gods knew what else from the forest. It needed washing as badly as I did, but undressing here, with him just steps away…
No. Absolutely not.
