Rhiannon knew the next trial. She knew it and had sent me back to Dorian, knowing he would unravel certain truths for me.
But I still didn’t know her trick.
I winced as he pushed deeper into the wound.
He leaned back, swiped another vial off the table. “Drink more.” When I didn’t take it, he said, “Jerking away from my tweezers is a quick way to make this take a lot longer.”
Fair. I took the vial, upturned it, and drank.
After that, he worked in careful silence. The drink halfway numbed the pain, but it also gave the world an inebriated tinge. Eventually I watched him with lidded eyes. His hands were large and warm on my skin, but he was so gentle, so precise. His dark eyeswere fringed with long lashes, his lips curving even when they pressed together.
Nothing like the shadow of that first night. Nothing like the man I’d found strange and ugly atop that wagon. He’d grown on me, vine to trellis, until all his parts felt perfect and inextricable from each other.
Why had I held myself back? Why had he?
I averted my eyes, but the scent of him was already in my lungs and in my blood.
When he’d cleansed the wound, he applied an ointment that sent a wave of coolness through the muscle. He leaned back, setting aside his tools. Sweat gleamed on his forehead. He made to stand. “You should bathe before I dress the wound.”
I caught his hand. My eyes met his.
This time, I wouldn’t let him walk away.
Above me, I heard his breath hitch. “I don’t want to hurt you, Eury.” His voice was low, almost mournful.
I stared up at him. I could see the desire in his eyes, how his gaze had traveled over me. Even now, standing above me, I saw his conflict.
But I wanted him. Craved him like we craved fresh water in the Dip.
I tightened my grip on his hand, led it to the strings of my shirt, until his palm fell over my collarbone. He watched, a muscle in his jaw feathering.
“I can take pain, Dorian.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
His eyes closedas his hand came to rest on my collarbone. When they opened, his pupils had dilated once more. There it was. Him, his want, the real unvarnished Dorian. The fae who looked at me with more reverence than he did the Sylvanwild queen.
His voice dropped to a rough whisper. “I’ve thought of this so often.” His fingers slid over my collarbone to the open flaps of my shirt, then lower. “You with those leathers off.”
The words were a shock. Heat swept through my belly, fast and encompassing. “You lie.”
He shook his head, brushed the side of one breast as he passed toward the hem. Goosebumps followed his touch. He lifted my shirt until my torso came exposed, but he paused before revealing my chest. I hated how my breath caught when he moved his hand, as if my lungs had made a decision my mind hadn’t.
My eyes lifted. “What about me with this undershirt off?”
The faintest curl appeared at his lips. “That, too.”
I lifted my good hand to the twine of my messy braid and tugged. The braid unraveled, and I shook my hair loose. “Then what are you waiting for?”
The words came so easily, I hardly knew whose mouth wasspeaking them. Who was she, this woman? Not Eurydice Waters of the Dip. But they felt right—likeme.Like the Eurydice who had lived inside me all along. The girl who’d run toward the wall at night. The one who’d seen a shadow moving through the trees. Who’d fought off those fuckers in my bunk.
Now I knew I was two people, two Eurydices living inside the same body. Human, fae—changeling.
“Good question.” He raised my shirt higher and slipped it off over my head, taking care to help me slide out of the left sleeve. He pulled it off me… and stared, lips parted.
I had a human instinct to cover myself. I resisted it and stared up at him.
“Fuck, Eury.” He let the undershirt fall to the floor like he’d forgotten he was holding it.
