No. That wasn’t true. I didn’t forget about them so much as forgot they needed tending. He had a way of carrying himself as if he could take on the world. His confidence was both infectious and irritating. But he wasn’t a bonded immortal like me. He wasn’t as invincible as he seemed.
I turned toward the ladder. “Coming.”
To Ace’s credit, he knew better than to wait at the bottom of the ladder with a smug expression on his face. By the time I made it down to the ground floor, he had cushions and a med kit laid out by the fireplace. He stood in the flickering light looking as exhausted as I felt.
“Looks like you were better at stocking medical supplies than food,” I said. “Do you want to go first?”
He hesitated, shoulders tense, his dark brown gaze shadowed from the dim light of the fireplace. With a sigh sounding more like a surrender than an agreement, he nodded.
I waved at his torso, and he reached for the hem of his shirt. The fabric, torn and stained with soot and blood, clung to his skin in places where dried sweat had turned it stiff. I opened my mouth to say something. Did I want to stop him? Did I want a moment to prepare myself? The words tangled in my throat as he peeled the shirt away.
The firelight flickered, catching along the curve of his back as he turned and my breath caught. Beneath the soot and grime, lean muscle moved like coiled wire under his olive skin. But it wasn’t the strength of him that made my chest tighten, it was the damage.
Raw, blistered burns marred his back where the fire had kissed him too long, and angry red streaks cut across his shoulder blades where wood had splintered into him. Arrows had nicked his sides, leaving shallow wounds now crusted over with dry blood.
He sustained these injuries for me.
For me and Nala.
Something tightened around my chest, squeezing all the air from my lungs.
“You need to work on your bedside manner,” he said.
I’d slap him for that but there was nowhere to slap without causing pain. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t need to,” he muttered.
The silence thickened between us. Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, a soft moan through the branches.
“I grabbed some water.” Ace stretched out his arm and pointed at the bowl with a washcloth soaking inside. “It’ll need to be cleaned,” he added, like I didn’t see the state of his back.
“I’m not an idiot,” I said.
“Never said you were,” he said. “Did it ever cross your mind that I might be nervous about you tending to my wounds?”
“Scared?” I reached out and gripped the washcloth with both hands to wring out the water.
“No,” he said. “I’ve decided to trust you.”
“Out of the two of us, I haven’t given you any reason not to trust me.”
Ace grunted, like he didn’t agree with my statement but chose to let it go. Which was total bullshit, because I hadn’t lied about anything.
Well…
Nothing that should make him doubt how I’d tend his wounds, anyway.
I reached for the cloth and dipped it in the water. Stepping closer, I pressed the wet cloth to his skin gently. I squeezed the cloth so the water would run down his back and flush out the wounds.
“I just know this is going to hurt like a—” Instead of finishing his sentence, Ace hissed and then cursed. He didn’t pull away.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
He shook his head, jaw clenched. “Don’t apologize.”
I dabbed at the burns, carefully working around the worst of them. The scent of charred wood still clung to his skin. My hand trembled once, but I forced it steady.
“You ran into a burning building for me,” I said quietly.
