Aelia whirled round to face her attacker, ignoring the pain spiking through her at the sudden movement, her hand reaching for her dagger.
It took her a moment to believe what she was seeing, her mouth dropping open in disbelief as the stranger who’d fixed her water pressure stood gawping back at her.
They both half shouted some garbled version of “what the fuck are you doing here?” at exactly the same moment, the words incoherent over one another, but the sentiment unmistakable.
Aelia glared at him as a slow smile spread across his face.
“If you wanted to get me alone in the woods again, you only had to ask,” he said, grinning.
Aelia shoved his shoulder, hard. It was like punching a rock.
She fought the urge to shake her hand against the fresh wave of pain she’d created for herself, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“You didn’t need to shove me so hard,” she complained, rubbing at her cheek. She wondered if she had an imprint of the bark on her face.
“I didn’t know it was you.” The smile leaked from his face, and for a moment she thought he looked genuinely contrite. “Your hood was up, and the rain masked your scent. Are you hurt?”
Great, of course he could smell her. Gods only knew what a man like him Shifted into. She genuinely couldn’t imagine any living creature more animalistic than the towering hunk of muscle in front of her.
She threw her hood back over her head, glaring at him the whole time, choosing to ignore his question.
“So you’re in the habit of throwing everyone who happens to walk behind you into trees?” she said, not giving him time to answer before she cut in. “Not that I find that hard to believe,after you broke into my house and made yourself at home. How did you even know where I lived anyway?”
Something flickered over his face, too quick for her to register.
“I asked someone in the village when I was carrying you back.” He ignored her answering scowl. “And I didn’t break in. The door wasn’t locked.”
“And that gives you the right to just waltz in and start sticking your nose into everything, does it?” she said, voice rising to a near shout.
His expression darkened. Good, she was getting to him.
“I carried you up gods knows how many stairs, tended to your wounds, and fixed a few things while I was waiting to make sure you weren’t going to stop breathing. So can you stop acting like I broke in and ransacked the place?” Something changed in his eyes, making their brown depths seem suddenly darker, crueller.
It struck a chord deep within her, an ancient instinct that warned her to be careful. He must have noticed her fear because, with what seemed like a real effort, he controlled his expression, the darkness in his eyes clearing a moment later.
A bit freaked out, she took a step back. His arm lifted towards her, his face regretful for a fraction of a second before he clenched his jaw and let his arm drop to his side.
She replayed his words, eyes narrowing.
“What do you mean you fixed a few things?” She knew about the water filter… what else had he been nosing around?
“Does it matter?” He turned and stalked off to the other side of the track, pulling his own pack from where he’d stashed it behind a tree. “I wanted to make sure you were ok, I had nothing to do whilst I waited, and I thought I was being helpful. I misjudged the situation, I’m sorry.”
Her retort died on her lips. He was right, what did it matter now?
“Never mind,” she said, not caring how ungracious she sounded. He wasn’t the white knight in the story, he was the oaf who’d grabbed onto her with his great big sausage fingers and stopped her from getting to Otis in time. Only when she looked down at his hands, she was proven wrong. His hands were huge, sure, but his fingers were long and tanned, the veins branching up into the tense muscles of his forearm. Something clenched low in her stomach at the sight of them, and when she finally returned her gaze to his, a strange light in his eyes made her wonder if he knew what she’d been thinking.
“You’re right, it doesn’t matter,” she snapped, hoping he didn’t notice the colour she could feel stealing into her cheeks. “Let’s just go our separate ways and forget all about it.”
She didn’t wait for him to answer, trying to hide her embarrassment as she turned and strode up the road with as much dignity as she could muster, limp aside.
After a few meters, she puffed out her cheeks in a sigh, trying to dispel the last of her awkwardness, when she heard a twig snap behind her.
Peering over her shoulder mid-stride, her frown slammed back into place.
“What are you doing?” she said, half turning to walk sideways, not wanting to waste any more time.
He shrugged, his pack shifting on his shoulders. “Walking.”
