“Worse than I want it to be,” he said, cleaning the worst of the scrapes. When he was satisfied that my face was tended to, he rinsed the rag in the stream once more and took my hands in his. My palms were covered in dried blood, having taken the brunt of that first impact. A glance at the front of his cloak and shirt showed the stain from my injuries covered his clothing.
I winced as he touched the cloth to my hand and cleaned the blood off to inspect the cuts beneath. He glared at the injuries on the first palm as he set it on my lap, moving to the other and starting the process of cleaning that hand. The scrapes weren’t horrible enough that I’d die or needed serious attention from a healer, but it didn’t take much to cause an infection or make functioning painful.
The worst of the cuts was on the tip of my finger, a deep poke hole that throbbed when Caelum ran the cloth over it. He squinted, setting the cloth to the side and using his fingernails to pry out the thorn that had wedged itself into my skin. I squeaked as he pulled it free and blood welled up in my fingertip.
He leaned forward, drawing my finger into his mouth and licking the blood from the wound as I watched in shock. Warmth spread through my hand, saturating my chilled flesh as his dark gaze landed on mine. Heat flowed through my veins, burning me from the inside in a way that made me want all the things I shouldn’t and reminding me of the way he’d rubbed his shaft against me when he pinned me to the tree.
Something simmered in his gaze, thickening the air between us as he slowly pulled the finger free from his mouth and used his teeth to tear off a dry strip of fabric that he pressed to my finger to help the bleeding stop. “Hold that there,” he instructed, as if he had no clue that I was aroused by the sight of him licking the blood from my finger.
There was something wrong with me.
He knelt at my feet and grabbed my new boot. He unknotted the laces, pulled it off, and yanking down the sock. Even I saw the purple swelling wrapped around my ankle and the way it seemed to bulge between my leg and my foot.
“Fucking Gods,” Caelum muttered, hanging his head forward. He tore off more of the sheet, making strips as he wrapped my ankle in them carefully before replacing the sock.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, knowing that I’d effectively slowed down our pace dramatically. There was no way Caelum could carry me for the days it would take my ankle to heal entirely, and I would be fortunate if I could walk at all the next day.
“Stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault. You didn’t intend to fall down a fucking ravine. You were running for your life. I should have just killed them. At least then you wouldn’t be injured.”
“You can’t kill an entire group of people over a cloak, Caelum,” I said, shaking my head.
Something lurked in the shadows of his eyes as he turned his attention to my face. “Maybe not, but I would kill an entire group of people for putting you in danger.”
I swallowed, sucking back a breath of cool air as he carefully put my boot back on my foot.
“Does that frighten you, Little One? Knowing how far I would go to keep you safe?” He stood and held out a hand, in a way that felt like more than an offer to help me stand. It felt like by accepting his hand, I would be accepting his violence and willingness to kill those who got in his way.
“Yes,” I admitted, unable to fathom the reality. I would kill to protect Caelum from those who meant to harm him, but innocent people who just wanted to survive?
That wasn’t something I thought myself capable of doing.
“Good. Perhaps you’ll be mindful of putting yourself at risk unnecessarily in the future. It’s best for everyone that you stay safe. You do not want to consider what I’ll do if someone tries to take you from me.”
He strapped the pack to his back, placing an arm behind my knees and one behind my back and lifting me into the cradle of his arms as he hiked up the bramble side of the ravine. It wasn’t as steep as the place where I’d fallen, and soon the mountains loomed ahead at the top of the ridge. He traversed it, picking his way toward them and the possibility of more caves and, hopefully, a place to hide while I healed enough to travel. Right now, we were losing time with every hour that passed that I was unable to move on my own.
I was a liability to him, and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to sneak off in the night.
The thought of what he would do when he hunted me down once again was enough to keep me by his side, wondering how my savior had somehow become a morally gray man with no boundaries and a distinct lack of understanding how an actual courtship worked.
You didn’t just decide a woman was yours to protect after a few days spent together.
Right?
23
I sat outside the caves as the sun set, the shadows starting to dance on the horizon as it faded from the sky. The light it cast through the canopy of branches and evergreen needles bathed the forest floor in an eerie sort of glow as Caelum stalked through the underbrush. Running his palms over tree roots and stumps, he felt for moss and a type of leaf that he said could be made into a poultice to help with the swelling on my ankle.
I’d never expected a man like Caelum to know about poultices, and I had to wonder if that knowledge came from his father’s library, too. He went to a cave opening; a much larger entrance that immediately set my nerves on edge. It felt too obvious, less hidden.
Big enough for cave beasts to use it to come in and out under the cover of darkness.
Stashing the herbs and moss he’d collected in his pack, he swung it over his shoulder and onto his back before coming to collect me from the stump where he’d deposited me. He picked me up without fanfare, draping me over his shoulder as he swung the axe on his other side.
“There are kinder ways to carry me,” I sniped, lifting my head just enough that the blood wouldn’t rush to it and make me dizzy as he ambled through the cave entrance. He whistled as he walked, entirely unconcerned with the body draped over his shoulder like a sack of root vegetables.
“I can drop you faster this way if I need to fight off a cave beast,” he said, his steps remaining sure as he made his way deeper into the cave carved into the mountainside.
“Oh, that’s much better. I do so love the idea of being dropped onto the stones,” I said, feeling the need to argue with him just for the sake of it. I hated being reliant on him. I hated the fact that I couldn’t even walk on my own, let alone survive without him to take care of me.
“I’d rather that than see the flesh torn from your bones. It’s such pretty flesh, after all,” he said, using the hand that he’d wrapped supportively around the backs of my thighs to smack me on the ass.
“Hey!”
“Quiet,” he ordered, the word a murmur. “I need to listen.”
“Convenient,” I grumbled, but I kept my mouth closed after the single word of protest. Arguing wasn’t worth leaving him unawares. I, too, liked my flesh on my bones.