They both looked uneasy about removing their shoes. Warranted. They reluctantly untied their boots anyway. I reveled in the sight of the enchantress bent over.For fuck’s sake—it’d been way too long since I’d been with a woman.
I could see more of her now in the light of the cabin, and Asterie was fascinating to look at. Strong-featured and full-lipped. She was classically beautiful—like a painting in a gallery or a sculpture in a museum. If they painted her, then she would wear that same neutral expression that she wore now but in her eyes…there would be fire like the lustrous blue flame that flickered from her palms earlier.
Asterie peeled the bloodied cloak off, revealing more dark garb beneath it—she wasn’t in skirts, but dark breeches and a black tunic that hugged her frame. She winced as the fabric of the cloak pulled away from her back.
Asterie turned to warm her hands at the fireplace—the fire seemed to reach toward her long, slender fingers to kiss her fingertips. A rip in the back of her tunic revealed deep claw marks on her shoulder from when the Lynx had downed her. Blackened bloodstains seeped through the thick gray fabric.Fucking Lynx.
“You’re hurt.” My teeth ground—chest tightening into a knot. My reaction to her marred skin shocked me.
She shrugged. If it hurt badly, she wasn’t allowing it to show on her face. “It will heal by dawn.”
That didn’t suit me. “Why suffer? Allow me…”
My hands hovered over her shoulders impulsively. She looked like she might refuse, but she hesitantly pulled her thick braid to the side to give me a clear view. My jaw tightened.What did I care if this strange woman was hurt?
The heat of her shoulder warmed my palms as they pressed to the bloodied tunic. Mumbling the healing charm I had learned from an old Brennac healer centuries ago, I focused on the wounds beneath my fingers. The heat grew more intense. She hissed so quietly it was barely audible as the lacerations closed. An unpleasant feeling, but it guaranteed she would remain unscarred, though I doubted the wound was deep enough.
An odd urge to continue touching the enchantress overwhelmed me.
She turned to me, before running her eyes down my torso as though appraising me.Maybe that was wishful thinking.
Plus, the last thing I needed was to get wrapped up with an enchantress.Bad idea.No matter how lonely this existence was, I refused to make the same mistake twice.
Asterie pointed at the inked image of Vangard on my bicep. “Is that”—she paused—“is that where you keepit?”
I nodded. “Itis a he. And, yes, he rests there. He’s not always so ferocious—he just really hates Lynx. But what’s to love about them?”
Her neutral expression didn’t falter. Drawing a smile out of her seemed like a difficult task that I inexplicably wanted to challenge myself with.
The boy Commander seemed to be creating an inventory of everything that could be used as a weapon in my cabin. He skeptically ran his finger over a set of whittled bone crochet needles. I almost laughed, but the enchantress’ voice regained my attention.
“They shouldn’t have been there. The Lynx.”
“Yet, they were…” I drawled in response.
Asterie had moved to the log mantle over the fireplace, and she brushed her fingers over the dust that coated the jackets of the few history volumes there.
“I have the same ones,” she mused. “How did you get them?”
I’d only had one visitor in four hundred years, about three decades ago. She’d left a pile of history volumes, thinking it would help me pass the time…I didn’tcarewhat happened out there. What kind of worldshe’dbuilt. I’d skimmed the books once and contemplated using them as kindling a few times.
“A friend passed through—she thought I’d like to know what I’d missed.”
Her dark eyes grew glazed and contemplative; I took her moment of distraction as an opportunity to admire her.Fuck, she was beautiful.Strangely so.
It was likely that any woman would appear so beautiful,wasn’t it?Butthose odd blue flames. I’d never seen anyone with Source magic wield flames of blue before. And something about her reserved, enigmatic nature sucked me in.
“Let me get some tea started—in the meantime, do you want to…clean that off?” I motioned to the dried Lynx blood on her face and then pointed to the doorway of my bedchamber.
The boy nodded his approval but she hesitated.
“I’m making him tea, not challenging him to a duel—your boy Knight will live another day. After all, I swore in blood that neither of you is in danger.”
Emmerick ground out through his teeth, “I am a Constable, not a Knight.”
“What is the difference, anyway?” I knew full well the difference. But the boy’s outraged expression entertained me.
Asterie’s interest peaked as she noticed the packs I’d lugged inside from their horses. She let out a held breath.Relieved.I logged that emotion and how it changed her face.
