By evening, the light dimmed into a smoky gold, and the trees finally gave way to a small clearing. A narrow river cut through one side, its water clear and fast-moving. The sound of it was a relief.
Rell stepped ahead, scanning the perimeter though she could already tell they were alone. “This’ll do,” he said. “Water’s clean, no fresh tracks nearby, and we’ve got good visibility if anything tries to sneak up on us.”
Elora didn’t argue. She was too tired too.
Her limbs ached, not from walking, but from tension. Her claws hadn’t retracted once all day, and every sound still prickled at her nerves like static.
Rell stretched with a grunt, and brushed his hands on his pants, dust and soot catching the rays of light. “We both stink,” he said bluntly. “You more than me, probably.”
Elora gave him a flat look.
Rell just smirked and nodded toward the river. “Let’s bathe. You’ll sleep better not coated in sweat and soot.”
Elora stiffened. The idea of taking off her clothes—of exposing even part of herself here, now, in the open woods with him nearby—was absolutely impossible. Her mind flashed to Gerard, to Sadia helping her scrub the remnants of him away, but never truly feeling clean.
Rell didn’t seem to notice the shift in her posture, or maybe he chose not to. Instead, he grabbed two small vials from his satchel and placed one on a flat rock near her. The other he kept in hand.
“Do you want to stay here or go upstream? I’ll take whatever spot you don’t.”
Upstream the trees enveloped the river, providing cover. Less exposed. She didn’t want to bathe at all, despite how much dirt clung to her sweat-slicken neck and dust crusted on her scalp. But she knew he was right. This would be a long, disgusting journey if she didn’t. She pocketed the vial and walked upstream.
“I’ll be here,” he said. “Don’t worry, I can’t see a damn thing through the trees, anyway. You scream, I’ll come running.”
She didn’t answer, and he didn’t wait for her to. Just gave her a nod and walked off, toward the river, already peeling off his coat.
Only when she heard the soft splash of him stepping into the water did she exhale. The trees did provide enough cover, though being able to hear him splashing made her feel entirely too close. She waited and listened. Listened for the crunch of twinges snapping, of someone approaching, of Rell jumping out of the bushes ready to tease her about her scars or her hesitation. But none of that came.
She exhaled, sat on a root, and fidgeted with the straps of her boots, taking far too long to peel them off. Then her cloak, which she folded and refolded before setting it gently on a rock. Her fingers hovered at the hem of her shirt… and froze.
She couldn’t.
Even though she was alone now. Even though he wasn’t watching. She couldn’t make her hands move.
Instead, she stood and stepped toward the river, still fully clothed.They’re filthy anyway,she told herself.This is practical. Efficient.
She slid into the cool current slowly, letting it rise up around her calves, her thighs, her chest. The weight of her clothes tugged against her body, but she didn’t care. The water was crisp and sharp against her overheated skin. She moved deeper until the current whispered past her collarbones. Then, she dipped her head back, letting her hair soak.
The cold hit her scalp with a sudden jolt that sent a shiver racing all the way to her toes. It almost knocked the breath from her lungs. She half-gasped at the sensation, unsure if she liked it or not. But then it eased, mellowing from a bite into a soothing embrace, numbing the edges of her awareness that had been screaming danger all day. It spread gentle fingers of calm down her neck and shoulders, unwinding knots she didn’t realize she’d tied so tightly.
She closed her eyes and let the chill do its work. For the first time since they’d entered the woods, everything inside her went quiet. Every coiled muscle relaxed. Every hyper-tuned instinct softened.
Relief came with it, and she found herself exhaling in long, slow breaths.
Almost like peace.
She reached for the vial, the water tugging insistently at her sleeves, and felt its smooth surface beneath her fingertips. When she uncorked it, a clean, sharp aroma burst forth, cutting through the damp, wooded scent of the forest. It was a mixture meant to mask the smell of soot and sweat, and she poured it over her wet hair, feeling it bubble and fizz as it spread across her scalp. The river carried away the emerging foam, and she watched it spiral downstream before scrubbing at her skin with a determination to actuallyfeelclean. Even fully clothed, she attacked the grime with an urgency that bordered on frantic. Her hands scraped away every trace of dirt and dust and memory, avoiding her scars, and avoiding cutting herself with her claws.
She stayed underwater for a long time, moving against the pull of the current, making sure that nothing, absolutely nothing, clung to her. She had to get clean. Clean enough that this whole thing was worth it. Clean enough that she could breathe without catching the scent of her own fear.
When she was finally satisfied, she let the river sweep away the last of the foam. Then she eased her way out of the current, water streaming off her heavy clothes in long rivulets. The chill of the air hit her with full force, but she didn’t care. Her mind felt clearer, and her body felt lighter even as the fabric clung to her limbs.
When she reached the clearing, Rell was crouched near a pile of kindling, bare-chested and focused on coaxing a flame to life. Her gaze caught on the lines of his back, the way his skin pulled taut over muscle, and something in her stirred—hot, wrong,immediate. She looked away fast. It was nothing. She wasn’t allowed to feel that. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel this pull toward him, to step closer instead of away.
Rell finally glanced up, caught her staring, and raised an eyebrow. The look on his face was a mix of amusement and something else, something she couldn’t quite decipher. Maybe didn’t want to.
“Water not cold enough for you?” he asked, nodding at her soaked clothes.
Her cheeks flared even more. She shook her head, tried to sound nonchalant. “It’s fine.”
