He risked a glance down into those green eyes and immediately regretted it. They were soft and knowing, and they had something thick settling in his throat.
He was saved from having to respond by their arrival at what appeared to be not a shed, but a small dilapidated house. Liam was striding out of the front door with Akeeta and Azul as Aidon drew his horse to a halt.
“It’s abandoned,” the Persi informed them. “Whoever used to live here is long gone.”
The benefit of war, Aidon supposed: There was no shortage of abandoned structures to hide in.
He dismounted and handed the reins to Cole to hold the horse steady while he helped Dauphine down. Will was already off his steed, Aya’s limp body cradled in his arms.
“There’s a bedroom upstairs,” Liam said to Will. “It’s not much, but it’s a place she can rest.”
Will didn’t utter a single word as he disappeared inside the house, Tyr at his feet.
“Come on,” Aidon urged Dauphine, his arm looping around her waist. “Let’s get your leg taken care of.”
“It’s fine,” Dauphine insisted. Yet she limped along anyway, her body leaning heavily against his as he guided her inside.
Liam hadn’t exaggerated. It was clear as they stepped into the home that it had long since been abandoned. It was small, with a hole in the low ceiling above the den. The elements had clearly taken their toll on the dirt-covered furniture, but it would do. At least until they could catch their breath.
Cole brushed some dirt off the couch and helped Aidon lower Dauphine onto it. The mercenary’s jaw shifted as she ground her teeth, a pained hiss escaping her as she settled onto the cushions. She laid her head back, the column of her throat exposed as she took several steadying breaths.
“I’ll see if I can find something to rebandage this with,” Cole offered. He returned a few minutes later with a worn shirt, and Aidon immediately ripped off a strip from the fabric.
“I thought I saw a well on the side of the house,” Cole said. “I can see if there’s water.”
Aidon shook his head. “There’s too much of a risk of infection. We’d need to wait for it to boil, and…” He swallowed down the rest of his sentence as he took in Dauphine’s blood-soaked bandage. He knelt before her, his hands gentle as he began to undo the wrappings on her thigh. “I’ll need to cauterize it.”
Dauphine peered down at him, sweat beading along her hairline. “Have you done that before?”
“Would you feel better if I lied?”
She curled her fingers over the edge of the couch cushion and said to Cole, “Search the place for alcohol, would you?”
Cole gave a mocking salute and ducked into the small kitchen.
Aidon tossed the bloodied bandage aside, frowning as he looked at the cut that ran horizontally across her leg.
“Do you need me to take my pants off?” Dauphine’s drawl was more pained than smug, but Aidon forced a smirk.
“You’ll have to try harder than that.” He peeled back some of the frayed fabric of her pant leg, wincing as she hissed. “I do need to remove some of this though.”
“Do your worst, Your Majesty.”
Aidon rolled his eyes as he grabbed the edges of the fabric and ripped the hole further. An awkward cough sounded from the doorway.
“No booze,” Cole said sheepishly. “I’ll fetch the water anyway. We’ll need it to drink.”
Dauphine blinked down at Aidon, the corner of her mouth twisting into a sly smile as Cole fled the room. “Feel free to do that again sometime,” she murmured, nodding at the torn fabric.
Gods above. Aidon didn’t bother to respond as he unsheathed one of his knives. He allowed himself one steadying breath before he called his flame forward, searing the blade in the palm of his hand. He handed Dauphine the spare bit of fabric.
“Bite into this,” he ordered, ignoring the way his stomach fluttered as her hand brushed his. He’d just seen the mercenary killseveralsoldiers, and here he was, nervous at her mere touch. He clearly needed sleep, or a drink, or both.
“Ready?” he asked, eyes flicking up to meet hers. She bit down on the fabric and gave him a curt nod.
Any lingering heat in his blood ran cold the moment he placed that knife to her seeping wound. Dauphine’s leg jerked, a muffled scream tearing from her, and Aidon leaned against her shin, pinning her to the couch.
“I know,” he breathed, sweat dripping down his brow as he followed the path of the cut. “Try to hold still. I’m almost done.”
