Brown eyes widened.
It pricked at Robin’s conscious to see her looking so pallid. It wasn’t that he was a cold or heartless man, but he was purposeful. For so long he’d had only one motivation in life: to right the wrongs done long ago.
And if that meant shutting off emotion, focusing only on the task at hand, and not worrying about what the cost would be, then so be it. The realization that somewhere along the lines he’d become cold and detached twisted his gut in knots.
“Robin.” She laid a palm on his shoulder. Her gentle voice cut him to the quick.
He wasn’t sure what she meant to say, and he wasn’t entirely sure she knew either. His name hung between them.
She looked sad more than upset. He rubbed his chest when she finally stepped away and resumed walking.
Why should it bother him what she thought? She was just a genie, a creature crafted to grant wishes, not a person. Not a true one, anyway. That’s how he always thought of them, sentient beings, but born to do one thing only, obey the whims of their owners without question.
But he was coming to see that for the lie it was. Last night, how her eyes had shimmered when she’d spoken of home. Her story of how she’d been ripped from her family, from the only home she’d ever known, she’d felt real to him. Not just crafted by magic, but a woman who’d felt and lived and had dreams. A woman who, through no fault of her own, was all alone and thrust into one dangerous environment after another. With no one to watch out for her. No one to protect her.
When he’d seen John straddling her, his fingers so near her throat, the violent intensity of emotion Robin had felt at the sight of it had shaken him to his very core.
They’d been walking now for a few minutes, long enough that he could no longer see his men.
“What happened yesterday, and now this morning, it should never have happened, and it will never happen again. I vow it.”
She nodded and then gathered her hair, twisting the strands through her nimble fingers until she’d created a thick braid of it. His heart clenched at the sight of the purplish-black bruises creeping up her neck.
What’d happened to him? To his men? There’d been a time that to lay hands upon a woman would have sent Robin into a fit of violence. He’d have lobbed off any male’s hands for daring to do it; there’d been honor once in his bunch. Now he wasn’t sure if that was the case anymore.
Clenching his jaw, he trailed a finger up the delicate skin of her neck. “Can you not heal this?”
She shivered beneath his touch. Her eyes going wide and her cheeks heating with blood. He pulled his hand back. But already he’d memorized the velvety softness of her flesh, the way it prickled and danced beneath his touch.
She clapped a hand over her neck as if burned. “On-only if I slip into my lamp.” She cleared her throat; her fingers flitted over the spot where he’d been touching her.
The cool pre-dawn felt suddenly hot and sticky. Frowning at his overwhelming emotions, Robin took a step back, placing some distance between them.
She glanced off to the side.
“You need food, water, and then we must talk,” Robin said, then cleared his throat. Whatever he was feeling, or not feeling, he must never forget that he still had a mission to accomplish.
They walked on a little longer in silence, until Robin spied a bush with glistening red berries on it.
“Raspberries. Do you like them?” He pointed.
She nodded. “I didn’t back home. But I think I’m too hungry to be picky.”
The sky gleamed a pale pinkish-orange. The farther they moved from the sulfur pools, the more crisp and clean the air smelled. The less stifling and humid it was too.
Robin had continued to follow the brook’s trail. This would be a perfect spot to eat, drink, and talk.
“I’ll gather the berries, go drink and do what you must, then meet me back here. Aye?”
She nodded, and he could almost feel the relief emanating in waves off her as she hurried off.
The genie returned less than five minutes later, her skin gleaming as though she’d washed her face and hands, and the exhaustion that’d laced her features earlier no longer seemed so pronounced.
Robin had gathered all the ripe berries off the bush he could find. Dividing them evenly on two large leaves. Patting the ground beside him, he shoved one of the leaves in her direction when she sat.
“We need to talk.”
“So you keep saying.” Her words weren’t curt, or short, but he definitely heard the thread of exasperation behind them. “But you saw what Danika showed you, I didn’t do it, so why you—”
He popped a berry into his mouth, swallowing before interrupting her. “Is that what you think? That I’m still unsure if you’ve beguiled my men? I’m not.”
Frowning, she shoved a handful of berries into her mouth. “Then what is this?”