“What?” Kailia asked, unsure of what was happening. She glanced at Cethin, who appeared as surprised as she felt, before looking back at Niara. “I don’t understand.”
“It is merely an offering to make you more comfortable,” Niara supplied simply, seeing far too much with her keen Witch senses. “But the choice is yours.”
Would that work? A touch was a touch, but…
But if she pretended it was a dream—the same dream from an hour ago—maybe it would be enough to survive these few minutes.
Her eyes fixed on the fur blanket her fingers were buried in, she said, “I would prefer Cethin do it.”
She could feel his eyes on her, and she couldn’t describe what she was feeling right now. It was a mixture of resentment at the situation and humiliation at her weakness, but also an odd thrill she’d never experienced before. Certainly never at the prospect of being touched.
“Lie flat,” Niara instructed, and Kailia started to inch down the bed.
When Cethin reached to help, she stilled. “Not yet. Just…not until necessary.”
He nodded, and she worked herself down before Niara said, “The blankets only need to go down to your waist.”
Well, that was good considering the whole no pants thing. She didn’t want to contemplate how she’d come to be in such a state.
As if reading her thoughts, Razik suddenly spoke from across the room.
“Wren and Fallon got you into clean clothing,” he said. “Your other attire was torn, soaked, and bloody.”
She nodded, meeting his sapphire gaze for a second before refocusing on Cethin and readying herself.
“Remove the bandage, Cethin,” Niara instructed, passing him a small knife with a long, narrow blade.
He nodded, taking it from her and stilling again as if hesitating. Kailia closed her eyes though, trying to go anywhere but here. Thinking of the safety of her smoke. A quiet room by the sea. Frigid lands with snow and freezing temperatures.
But a small gasp fell from her lips as something icy brushed along her bare stomach, and her eyes flew open a second before Cethin’s fingers followed. He was focused on his task, carefully sliding the blade beneath the bandage, but his eyes flicked to hers for the briefest of moments.
His fingertips were rough where they touched her, callused from training the way hers were. And instead of closing her eyes to suffer through all this, she studied him. The slight crease on his brow as he concentrated, trying to be cautious but also quick. The intensity in his eyes, glowing faintly as if they held starlight itself. The tense jaw. The press of his lips as he worked. The steadiness attributed to one comfortable performing under pressure.
Then he stepped back to let Niara in, the female inspecting but not touching as promised. Something eased in Kailia’s chest a little.
“It’s healing nicely,” Niara said. Meeting Kailia’s gaze, she added, “The wound was deep but done with a standard blade. The burns have all healed as well. You still need to rest. And keep applying the herbs until fully healed, which should be in a day or two.”
Kailia nodded as Niara stepped back again and went to a dresser, where supplies were scattered across the surface. Picking up a small pot, she lifted the lid and brought it to Cethin along with a small, flat stick.
“Cover the wound fully,” she said. Looking at Kailia, she added, “You’ll need to sit up then so he can wrap the bandage around your torso.”
The paste was cool on her skin as he spread it around, and it wasn’t until he handed the pot back to Niara that his magic skated along her arms. He reached for her, extending a hand.
“The sooner we both get fixed up, the sooner we can go home,” he said, giving her a small smile.
Tentatively, she slid her hand into his, and he gently pulled, his other hand hovering between her shoulder and lower back. Soon enough, she was sitting upright, and he wound a bandage around her torso.
“Are you doing all right?” he murmured, the words low and the moment somehow feeling intimate despite other people being in the room. It didn’t make any sense.
“Yes,” she answered, trying to figure out why her voice sounded odd and breathy.
He smiled again, reaching around her to take the bandage from his other hand, but he said nothing else. And did she kind of wish he would have? She knew his words were full of deceit and deception to coerce and get his way, so why were they also somewhat comforting? Or maybe it wasn’t the words, but the manner in which he spoke them. Yes, that had to be it. Practiced mannerisms and inflections.
“Done,” he said, stepping back a bit, but staying near as she eased back into the pillows.
“Three times a day,” Niara said, striding to the dresser. She placed a few items in a satchel while organizing the remaining items. “Both of you need to rest for the next two days.”
“You’re leaving?” Cethin asked.
