Page 47

It was Callum. He slowly crouched in front of me, avoiding my splinted ankle. The indigo tunic was gone, replaced with one in a dark brown that had no embroidery at all, not even simple topstitching. The laces were undone, revealing a swirl of ink tracing down his collarbone that reminded me of ivy.

The smell of the forest enveloped me, inexplicably calming some of my frayed nerves. Some of the tension eased from the remaining group, too.

“Reuben needs to work on your ankle,” he said in a low murmur. “Are you ready?”

I glanced at my remaining food, but the desire to eat was truly gone. When I nodded, he helped me to my feet, his hand soft but unrelenting on my waist, keeping his body pressed against my left leg as I struggled to put weight on my ankle. The smell of the forest grew stronger as he led us away from the fire, and I relaxed even more.

He was just as patient as this morning as he guided me through the maze of tents. There weren’t nearly as many as the camp along the ocean, and none of them felt as permanent as some of those had. That made sense, I supposed, since we would only be here for a single night and not for however long the lead-in to the Rite had been for these people.

He held open the entrance to the largest of them, holding my elbow for stability as I carefully edged inside. Two small fire jars sat along the back edge, illuminating most of the space like they were lamps in truth. Along one wall was a small rug and four tall white candles. Beside it was a smaller version of Reuben’s trunk with several saddlebags set atop its closed lid. The rest of the small footprint was taken by a single cot. It was nearly as large as the bed I’d shared with Sloane in that cottage, but still…

No decent person would expect sex while my leg wasn’t even functional, right?

I chanced a glance at Callum, but he was busy taking off his boots and setting them just inside the entrance. Without a word, I dropped onto the nearest side of the cot, grasping its edges tight enough that my knuckles whitened.

“Callum?” It was Reuben.

Callum murmured something that didn’t translate, moving to the saddlebags and carefully digging through them as he sunk into a crouch. He didn’t even look over his shoulder as Reuben ducked into the tent. His presence took the slightly small, cozy feel of the tent straight into overcrowded.

Neither man seemed to mind the change. It made me want to scratch my skin off. I tightened my hold on the cot to keep from acting on the desire. Reuben kneeled in front of me, setting a saddlebag that was worn around the seams beside him. His touch was light as a feather as he unwrapped the splint, rolling the linen. He cut it right before it turned bloody, setting aside the unmarred bit and placing the rest into a small bowl he’d procured from the bag. Then he ran his hands down either side of my shin, that sparking electricity following the soft touch. The long gashes burned hot enough I grimaced, and then the scabs fell away, leaving long pink lines of new skin.

When he pressed his palms against my ankle, the burning grew more intense, and I cried out just like that morning. Callum’s gaze flashed to me, his eyebrows furrowed, his hands stilling.

“It’s okay, Callum,” Reuben said, like he could tell my noise had set Callum on edge despite him focusing entirely on my ruined bones.

He moved his hands down my foot, the burning still horrible. I couldn’t help but whine when he finally pulled his touch away.

“Please tell me it won’t always hurt like that,” I whispered, panting.

Reuben shook his head. “It should lessen with each bit of mending we do.”

“Oh thank God,” I muttered.

Reuben chuckled, and Callum cocked an eyebrow. This time, when Reuben ordered me to point and flex my foot in turn, I was able to do both without any pain at all. He pursed his lips, humming, and then stood in one fluid motion. He held out his hand in offering. I swallowed back a refusal, holding tight to his fingers as I eased to my feet. My foot was oddly numb, but I was able to put weight on it unlike this morning.

“Any pain?” Reuben asked.

I shook my head. “No. It… feels numb, actually.”

“Good. Progress, then. Does your head hurt?”

“Not at all.”

He smiled. “Fantastic.” Then he looked at Callum. “Should I have one of the women aid her?”

Callum’s Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed, his eyes coasting over me, the gold of his irises slowly melting into ore again. What made them do that? None of the others here seemed to do anything similar. Silence stretched in the tent until it grew taut. Reuben cleared his throat, a small smile curling one corner of his mouth.

“I’ll go get one of them,” Callum said, dropping his eyes.

He ducked out of the tent a moment later, not bothering to grab any of the fire jars. Once he was gone, Reuben helped me back onto the cot and made a new splint. This one left most of my leg uncovered, only giving support to my ankle.

“I imagine we’ll be getting a very early start in the morning, so I will work to mend it again tomorrow night,” he said when he was finished. He kneeled before me, repacking the saddlebag while his eyes bore into me. I squirmed uneasily. “I’ve given Shelby a serum to aid your head in case the mountains make it ache again. There is no shame in asking for it.”

My cheeks flushed. How had this person who’d known me only a day already figured out I was likely to turn down help even if I needed it? And asking for it? I’d rather have another round of fixing my ankle, thank you very much.

Reuben arched an eyebrow.

“All right,” I whispered.