With just the two of them and one horse, it was going to be a long day if they wanted to clear the rot before sunset. She wanted to reach the familiar part of the woods as quickly as possible. Ifthe moon cooperated, she might keep walking until her legs gave out.
She’d like to move Sol closer to the fire, but she’d wait a bit longer for the men to finish eating before attempting it.
With a sigh, she pushed herself to her feet and turned around to head back to the others. Casrian stood only a few feet away, looking every bit the captain again with his fine leather boots and tailored wool jacket with its shiny buttons. With the way he stood—his weight balanced and hands clasped behind his back.
“How is he?”
“He’s doing well,” she said, stepping away from her sleeping patient so as not to wake him. “There’s no sign of fever. It’s a natural sleep.”
“Good.”
She started to walk past him, but he caught her arm. His touch was warm and firm and familiar in a way that her body responded to in uncomfortable ways.
“Rowan,” he murmured. “Stay a moment. We have to talk.”
“I think we’ve said everything we need to say.”
She looked at the men gathered around the fire, trying to pretend they weren’t paying attention. Casrian shifted, placing himself between her and the fire, blocking their view. His eyes gleamed in the darkness, intent and steady. His scent surrounded her. She wanted nothing more than to step forward and lean into his strength, feel his arms wrap around her and pretend that she was safe.
His hand came up to her cheek. “Are you all right?”
“We’re only a few miles away from a witch who wants to tear out our innards and wear them around her neck like jewelry. It’s stressful.”
“Is it the witch that has you on edge?”
It was everything. Him. Daris. The witch. Her mother.Him.She gave a jerky nod. The witch was definitely one of the things on the list.
“I know this is hard.” His voice was pitched low so that no one could overhear them. They were far enough away for that. And by the way his men were talking around the fire, they were doing their best to mind their own business. Casrian’s thumb stroked across her cheekbone, and his gaze softened. “I understand why you’re angry with me.”
“Do you?”
His eyes tracked over her face as if he was memorizing each spot. His head dipped in a nod. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. At the Academy, we’re trained not to leave anything unsaid before hunting a witch. To repent. To ask forgiveness for our wrongs when we are able. So that we can set off with a clean heart. It helps protect us from the witch’s influence.”
She breathed a laugh. Of course. He’d come to talk to her because of a lesson from the Academy. Like she was something he needed to check off his list, the same as seeing that the horses were picketed properly or setting a watch.
“It was a mistake to bring you out here. You didn’t understand the risks and I placed you in grave danger. That man in the woods…the familiars…you shouldn’t have had to deal with any of that. Four hundred cord isn’t enough.”
He was so hard on himself and yet at the same time he didn’t understand anything. He always apologized for the wrong things.
“I made the deal,” she said stiffly. “You didn’t trick me into it. I knew it would be dangerous.”
“I know you haven’t forgiven me for Jarn, and I won’t ask it of you again. I’ll never forgive myself for what happened there. But know that I still plan to do everything within my power to make things right for you and your mother.”
She gritted her teeth and nodded sharply.
“And for today… I shouldn’t have accused you of trying to bewitch me. The blood spell was wrong, dangerous. But as for the rest—” He shook his head. “I don’t fully understand what you can do, but I know that you’re not a witch. You guided me safely to my men and I owe you for that. Thank you.”
She couldn’t help the curl of warmth that swelled in her belly. She nodded and looked away. How many people had ever thanked her for a job well done?
He trailed the backs of his knuckles down her arm. “I do ask for your forgiveness for what came after. I’ll beg for it if you ask it of me.”
She stared down at her feet, felt the weight of his attention settle on the top of her head. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
“I disagree,” he murmured. “If there’s nothing to forgive, then why are you angry? Your body is fairly vibrating with it.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Hadn’t she exposed enough of her heart?
