Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Lucian
Astra Lakan cannot shift.
It had taken me two days of following her to come to that conclusion on my own before she told me. I’d figured that she either lacked the ability or her wolf was injured.
To add insult to injury, the forest is full of dangerous creatures who are watching her, viewing her as potential prey. I’ve been dealing with them, but there is more that plagues her.
Astra herself is also quite badly injured, and she is ill.
The injury on her leg is not healing. She tries not to let it affect her, but she is clearly in the throes of fever.
Eating nothing but fruit isn’t helping her case; even if she cannot shift, she needs meat.
However, it doesn’t seem like she has the ability to hunt at this point.
I didn’t mean to interfere. The plan was to watch her, observe who she is. When I carried her out of that tree in the late hours several nights ago, I strayed from my plans. But she was so fragile and weak. And my wolf keeps wanting to rub up against her like a little pup.
When I killed the two rabbits, I didn’t think that feline of hers would take the credit. But it kept happening, and my irritation kept growing.
Did Astra really think a cat could take down two rabbits? That damned animal stared at me smugly while she received praise for something she didn’t even do.
That’s why I left the boar. Let’s see the girl try to chalk that up to the cat.
Of course, I didn’t account for the fact that she would panic.
I also didn’t think Gareth would be foolish enough to send men to hunt her down and kill her to prevent the truth of the whole matter from coming out.
I’m going to skin the bastard alive, I muse to myself as Astra holds out seventeen silver coins to me.
She thinks I’m a rogue mercenary!
She hit me. And now she’s trying to pay me, Lucian, Crown Prince of the Wolf Kingdom, seventeen silver to protect her on her journey. I don’t know whether to be insulted or amused.
I should say no, but my wolf is straining against me, rumbling happily at the idea of protecting this girl. Foolish beast.
But she is peculiar. I find her intriguing. I want to know how someone like her knows so much about herbs. To date, there has been no cure for wolfsbane. Wolfsbane poisoning means death. I was certain I was going to die.
But I can already feel the burning sensation in my blood fading. Whatever she did, it’s working. I owe her my life. I owe her a life debt, and I don’t take those lightly. I’ve only ever owed three people a life debt, with her being the third.
“Why are you going to Turnville?” I demand.
“My—” A flush crawls over her cheeks, making her eyes glitter. She looks adorable. “My friend is there. He offered to marry me, and Alpha Gareth said I could go, but then he changed his mind because he didn’t want his daughter to…The point is that I kind of have a fiancé in Turnville.”
“A fiancé?” Annoyance creeps through me. “Turnville is a human village. You have a human fiancé?”
She nods. “He’s really sweet. I’ve known him for a few years now.”
“And what if your alpha tracks the two of you down there?”
She’s packing away the herbs, but her hands go still now. “He doesn’t know who Andrew is. He has never met him. And shifters aren’t allowed to cause chaos in human towns. He’ll leave me alone. Hopefully.”
The cat limps toward Astra, and she picks up the creature delicately. “Luna, meet—”
She gives me a quizzical look, and I clear my throat. “Lucian.”
“Lucian.” Her smile widens so brightly that it feels like the sun is shining from her face. “He’s going to look after us for the next couple of days. I’m Astra, by the way.”
She’s too trusting.
I do some stretches to assess my body, and I can tell I’m not fully healed yet. It’s going to take some time. Astra seems to have realized this, and she quickly reaches into her knapsack.
“I have some meat. It’ll help with your healing.” She takes out the cooked boar meat and hands it to me. It’s a huge chunk. I know she didn’t cook the whole animal, just portions of it.
“What about you?” I ask her. “You seem to be injured, as well. You also need to eat meat.”
She shrugs, grinning at me. “I’m sure you’ll hunt something down for us.”
She has such confidence in me that it makes me feel uneasy. “Aren’t you afraid of me?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
Astra pauses in her packing, tilting her head to consider the idea. “Should I be?”
“I just killed three men without breaking a sweat. For all you know, I could have worse intentions than they did.”
She is quiet for a moment, stroking Luna’s fur. When she looks up, there’s a defiant gleam in her green eyes.
“Anyone and anything in this forest can kill me,” she says simply. “If I spent all my time being afraid, I’d never do anything.”
The cavalier way she accepts mortal peril makes my heart twist in my chest. “That’s not an answer.”
“Fine.” She sets Luna down gently and meets my gaze directly.
“You could hurt me, yes. But you didn’t let those men hurt me when you easily could have walked away.
You saved my life and my cat’s life, and now you’re bleeding and have wolfsbane poisoning because of it.
” She gestures toward my wounds with that dazzling smile of hers.
“Plus, I have the most dangerous mercenary in these woods guarding me now. What do I have to fear?”
A warmth spreads through my chest at her words. The most dangerous mercenary in these woods. She says it with such complete conviction, such genuine admiration, that it catches me off guard.
I’ve been praised by generals, honored by nobles, and feared by enemies across the kingdom. But none of their carefully crafted compliments have ever made me feel quite like this. There’s no political calculation in her voice, no attempt to curry favor. She simply believes what she’s saying.
Why does the honest praise from this nobody—this orphaned outcast with no wolf—affect me more than all the flowery speeches from those in my court?
“You don’t know anything about my reputation,” I say, testing her conviction.
“I know you moved faster than three trained warriors could follow. You killed them like it was nothing.” Her eyes spark with what I want to say is admiration. “That’s enough for me.”
The fuzzy feeling in my chest intensifies. When nobles praise my skills, it’s always with an underlying fear, a careful distance. But Astra speaks of my lethal abilities like they’re something to be grateful for, not terrified of.
I take a bite of the boar meat to avoid responding, disturbed by how much her simple faith in me matters.
“We need to change your bandages,” Astra says, suddenly rummaging through her knapsack again. “The wound needs to stay clean while the poison works its way out.”
“I can manage it myself.”
“I’m sure you can, but I have better supplies.” She pulls out a clean cloth and moves toward a small stream nearby. “Besides, I can see places you can’t reach.”
I watch her rinse the fabric in the running water and wring it out carefully. When she returns, she kneels beside me with the damp cloth.
“This might be cold,” she warns, reaching for the torn hem of my shirt.
“I said I can—”
“Oh, stop being difficult.” Her fingers brush against my skin as she lifts the fabric, and electricity shoots through me at the contact. “It’s just a bandage.”
But it’s not just a bandage. Her touch is gentle, careful, completely different from the clinical efficiency of royal healers. When she checks the edges of the wounds and her fingertips graze my abdomen, heat flares through my entire body.
“The swelling is going down,” she murmurs, leaning closer to examine the cuts. “That’s good. The paste is working.”
Her face is inches from mine now, close enough that I can smell the floral scent beneath the dirt and sweat of travel. Close enough that I can see the way her dark lashes flutter when she concentrates.
“Astra.” My voice comes out rougher than usual.
“Hmm?” She doesn’t look up, too focused on her work.
“I can do this myself.”
“Don’t be such a baby. I’m almost done.” Her hand presses flat against my chest to steady herself, and I go completely rigid.
The innocent touch sends fire racing through my veins. She’s not trying to be seductive—she’s simply tending a wound—but having her hands on my bare skin is doing things to my body that I wasn’t prepared for.
She finally looks up, her brows furrowing as she stares at me. “I’m not hurting you, am I? I’m being careful—”
“You’re not hurting me.” The words sound strained.
“Then why—” She starts to pull her hand away, but I hold her wrist firmly. “What’s your problem?”
When I don’t answer at once, her expression shifts from confusion to irritation.
“Oh, for crying out loud.” She yanks her wrist free with considerable force. “You’re being a big baby about this. I’m just cleaning your wounds.”
“I am not being a baby,” I reply, surprised that I sound so defensive.
“Yes, you are.” She sits back on her heels, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re acting like I’m trying to torture you when all I want to do is make sure you don’t die of infection.
Which, by the way, would leave me alone in these woods with no protection, so I have a vested interest in keeping you alive. ”
“I told you that I can handle it myself.”
“And I told you that you can’t reach everywhere, especially your back. I have to apply the bandage to both sides of you even if the skin didn’t break on your back.” Her voice rises slightly. “But apparently, accepting help is beneath the great and mighty mercenary.”
“That’s not—”
“What is it, then?” She leans forward, eyes flashing with annoyance. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re being completely unreasonable about something that should take five minutes.”
I clench my jaw, unable to explain that the problem isn’t her help—it’s how her touch is affecting me in ways I can’t control.
“I don’t like being fussed over.”