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I don’t belong here.

Arwan offers his dark hand. I know he has to be in immense pain after using that kind of magic to bring us here, and I’m especially impressed I can’t feel it through our link. He must have found a way to suppress it.

Still, he smiles at me like it’s nothing. “It’s just a few steps up this way. I know which one has the best temperature that won’t be too hot for… your situation,” he says as he tilts his head.

I am still burning up.

But everything hurts. My wrist is throbbing, and the dizziness is making me feel faint. So I slide my fingers into Arwan’s and let him lead me up the steps.

He takes me to one of the pools that are near the cliffs, and I gaze out over the impressive view of trees and grassy landscape.

I can’t shake the sensation that Ze’ev is out there somewhere, watching.

Unlike Godric or Arwan, he wouldn’t leave me to my death. Either he had enough faith in me to survive my first combat, or he can’t make an appearance with the king himself here.

Especially if he’s a royal.

“Let me help you with this, first,” Arwan says as he slides his fingers down my thigh.

I freeze as he feels for my vials. When he finds them, he smiles. “Which one?” he asks.

“The first one in the second slot,” I say. The very first vial had been the protection vial I had given Sofia. That slot is empty now.

Hopefully, she was telling me the truth when she said she was using it.

Arwan takes the indicated tonic and uncorks it with his teeth, then places his finger under my chin.

“You’re not going to heal me yourself?” I ask as I match his gaze.

He gives me a toothy smile. His fangs look sharper than before. “I could heal you with my magic, but I’m sure it would have… side effects.”

The twinkle in his eyes leaves me with no doubt as to what side effects he thinks his magic might have on me.

He glances at my chest. “Godric was probably trying to protect you from that by giving you his necklace. He should really have known better. My magic will always be stronger than his.”

I have no interest in validating his dick-measuring comment, so I focus on my healing.

Dutifully, I take a drop of the healing tonic and flutter my eyes closed as he returns it to my holster. The pain immediately ebbs, and my wrist stops screaming at me.

Then he begins to take off my clothes. He leaves on my undergarments but removes the heavy leathers.

Then I hear the rustle of his silk fabric.

“What are you doing?” I ask without opening my eyes. I’m afraid of what I might see if I do.

“This is a bath spring,” he informs me. I shiver at how close the heat of his breath is to my ear. “We’re going to work out the tension in your muscles.”

A swallow works down my throat. He takes me by the hand and leads me over a few smooth rocks. “Open your eyes,” he tells me.

An echo of a similar demand reminds me of a dream. My dreams seem to come and go from my memory, but I distinctly recall him being displeased when I had opened my eyes.

“I’ll keep them closed,” I tell him.

He chuckles. “Suit yourself. Watch your step. We’re going down.”

I carefully feel for the drop and suck in a breath at the first touch of warm water.

“I have a fever,” I tell him. “I don’t know if a hot spring is such a good idea.”