“Your arm.” He reaches for me. “Let me?—”
I jerk away from his tall shadow. “Don’t.”
“Fine. I won’t.” He lifts his hands, but Bert has already inserted himself between us.
“Damn right you won’t.” Bert shoves him backward. “Come on, let’s tie you up.”
With a grunt, Valen sidesteps him, his gaze on me. “Don’t be scared.”
“How can I not?” I hiss.
“My lady,” Bert says, turning to me, but I ignore him.
Valen is silent, watching me, and Gods, I hadn’t meant for that to slip out. That admission… I curse myself for showing yet another weakness, another chink in my armor.
Then again, he saw me all but pass out at the sight of him covered in blood, saw me recoil again and again in his presence.
It’s not a big secret that I’m terrified of him.
So why does he look so… unhappy?
I’m imagining things, though, because the next moment he’s turning toward the window and my commode with my washbasin. Without asking for permission, he plunges his hands into the water remaining from my afternoon ablutions and starts scrubbing the blood off his face.
I retreat until my back hits the wall.
Valen turns around, his face and hands dripping red-tinged water. “What’s the matter?”
With a curse, Bert crosses the room, grabs him and hauls him toward the door. “Enough of this dilly-dallying and fooling around. Kier! Where in the hells are you?”
Valen shoves him away. “Don’t make me hurt you, human. I’m already in a bad mood.”
“If you hurt Bert,” I say shakily, “I’ll kill you myself, I swear it on all the Gods.”
Valen stares at me. Then he shrugs. “Fine. I’ll get out of your hair, but first, let me take a look at that wound on your arm.”
“Think you’re a better healer than the one employed by the manor lord?” Bert mocks.
Valen shoots him a glare. “Let me just take a look at the wound, Bert.”
“I’d feel better,” I whisper, “if you stayed far away from me.”
“But I only want to see?—”
“My lady,” Della says, bustling into the room, “I heard that you—why in thehellsis he untied?”
“Whoa.” Valen lifts his hands. “I wasn’t?—”
“Kier, come in here!” Della shouts. “The wolf is unleashed.”
“I only wanted to make sure she’s okay,” Valen says quietly. “Her arm?—”
“Kier!” Della shrieks, taking a step back and lifting her hands. “You, stay where you are.”
“I’m not moving, dammit,” Valen snarls softly.
Then Kier comes barging through the door and grabs him, joined by Bert, who’s all too happy to take out his annoyance on the werewolf.
“Fuck,” Valen says, “don’t.”
