“Everything okay in there?” the Issaraeth asked through the door.
Embarrassment tinged my cheeks. “Fine!” The last thing I wanted was for him to enter and find me helpless like this.
Gritting my teeth, I dove into my well of light and tugged. White dripped around me, and I wound it around my body, then yanked myself upright. Suspended by my magic, I wriggled my leggings back up my thighs and straightened my tunic. When I was appropriately dressed, I used the wall for additional support and hobbled to the door.
The Issaraeth stood, his back to me, staring down the hall like he’d stab anyone who came close. He turned as the wood creaked. Without a word, he scooped me up again, and I released my hold over my power.
We didn’t converse as he carried me back to the attic room. Yet a thousand unspoken words tumbled through my mind. Was his racing just the same? I didn’t dare lower my barricade and check.
The fire had thoroughly warmed the room by the time we returned, chasing away any lingering chill. Or was it my body pressed against his that made it so hot?
My mate eased me onto the side of the bed with that same aching tenderness as before. Like he hadn’t threatened to shatter me as we dined. Like we were a normal couple.
“Can I change clothes before sleep?” After all, I had worn these for days now. While the rain had washed most of the blood out of my clothes, stains lingered. We were finally not sleeping in the dirt. And I desperately wanted to feel cleaner, even if I couldn’t necessarily bathe.
To my surprise, he fetched a new tunic for me without protest. Unfortunately, he offered nothing to cover my legs.
“Turn around,” I told him.
To my shock, he did. I tugged the dirty fabric over my head,replacing it with the fresh one immediately. I couldn’t risk him seeing the vial of virelthorn still secreted away in the bind around my breasts.
I tossed the dirty tunic at him. He caught it without looking.
Lifting my hips, I shimmied the leggings down, thankful that my shirt was long enough to conceal the tops of my thighs. I paused to work the wrap off my knee, hissing as I pressed a little too firmly against one of the massive bruises.
“Need assistance?” he asked, his voice all velvet. But that hard edge remained.
My teeth dug into my bottom lip. Unfortunately, despite my flexibility, the strain on my hamstrings and tension in my quadriceps was pulling my kneecap into a bad position.
“Yes,” I relented, loathing that I was asking my captor for help yet again.
Not a single emotion flickered across his face as he bent over my legs. His fingers hooked into the fabric, brushing against my skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he peeled them the rest of the way off.
After placing my discarded clothes atop his bag, he returned with a fresh wrap for my knee.
I didn’t dare move as his hands ghosted over my bare skin again to secure it in place.
Once he finished, he rose, head ducked so he didn’t smack it on the beams overhead.
Our bond protested, sending a twinge between my ribs. A grimace crossed his severe, serious features, and he paused, sucking in a sharp breath.
“What is it?” I asked, resisting the urge to rub my chest.
“Nothing,” he muttered, taking a step back like it pained him to do so. He raked a hand over his iron-gray hair, pulling more strands loose from the leather tie he used to keep it out of his face. “We should get some sleep.”
“Yes we should,” I said, giving myself a mental shake. What had come over me? Suddenly a male steps in to protect me from harm and I’m a quivering mess?
You hate him, Sylaira. Remember all the horrible things he’s done. The other people he’s killed.
I swept my long locks over my shoulder and plaited them loosely so as to keep it from becoming a wild tangle overnight.
When I sank onto my back, I let out a long sigh. The mattress wasn’t too firm, but it was firmer than what I would prefer. Still far better than sleeping on the ground or in the cart. And unfortunately, I had to sleep on my back regardless.
I flicked my attention to my mate, still standing a few feet away. When our eyes collided, he held my gaze, something unreadable hiding among the ice.
“Goodnight,” I said, the word half-dismissal, half-reflex. I’d always said it to my friends and family in hopes that we would indeed have one, and that we wouldn’t wake up to the hunters busting down our doors.
The irony of being locked behind one with the male who systemically slaughtered Elessarum wasn’t lost on me.
