Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Astra
I keep finding my eyes drifting toward my protector as we walk through the forest, which is...distracting.
There’s so much about Lucian that draws my attention—the way he moves with fluid confidence, how his dark hair catches the light filtering through the trees, those sharp, blue eyes that seem to notice everything.
I wonder if all mercenaries look like this or if I just got lucky with my bodyguard assignment.
I’ve always heard that mercenaries are dangerous, terrifying shifters, most of whom have left their packs and are rogues. I never thought I’d actually cross paths with one. I guess the Goddess decided to switch up my luck for once. Can’t say I’m upset.
My lips curve as I hum to myself.
I’ve seen plenty of good-looking shifters in the pack, but none of them holds a candle to Lucian. He is ruggedly handsome and yet…dangerous. I’ve seen him handle himself when faced with three very strong warriors. He didn’t even have to shift to take them down.
“You’re staring at me again.” He sounds gruff but not angry.
I bite the inside of my cheek, mortified. “Sorry. I was just looking at your…shoes.”
“My shoes are on my feet,” he says dryly. “Not my face.”
I run my tongue over my teeth, my face feeling hot. “Gotcha.”
It’s his turn to shoot me a look. “Your injury isn’t better?”
I flex my leg. “It’ll get there.”
“Why didn’t your pack healer heal it?”
I wonder if he knows that he has asked the same question three times now. Either my answer doesn’t satisfy him, or he doesn’t believe me.
When his eyes narrow, I realize I must have spoken those thoughts out loud. I give him a quick, unrepentant grin. “Sorry. But you are a little annoying.”
His eyes widen as if my words have shocked him. “Excuse me?”
I wonder what it is about him that makes me keep putting my foot in my mouth. Telling the man who’s protecting me that he’s annoying is a surefire way to a quick death.
“Did I say annoying?” I blink. “I meant ‘inquisitive.’”
“You said ‘annoying,’” Lucian says flatly, his eyes flashing. “And you clearly meant it.”
I purse my lips together. “No, I didn’t.” I wish I could sound more sincere.
He turns to face me and takes a step closer, a deadly glint in his eyes. “Not many people speak to me the way you do.”
Despite the predatory way he is looming over me, I don’t feel the instinctive fear I would if he were any other person.
“How many people do you know?” I laugh weakly.
“Many.”
My back hits a tree as I step backward. He crowds me against it, one hand caging me in as it presses flat against the trunk.
My heart is beating fast as he leans closer. This is the point where I should shut up. However, the words that come out of my mouth have even Luna staring at me in disbelief. “Are you sure? One of them must’ve said something.”
A growl leaves his throat. “Say that again.”
It’s both a threat and a dare.
I swallow, holding his gaze. “I…would rather not.”
He holds me captive like this for a few seconds, his eyes studying my face with an intensity that makes me hold my breath. The space between us crackles with something I don’t have a name for—something dangerous and electric and completely foreign to anything I’ve ever experienced.
“Smart choice,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough in a way that sends heat spiraling through my chest.
But he doesn’t step back. Instead, he leans closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his body, close enough to catch the scent of pine and something distinctly masculine that makes my head spin.
“Though, I have to admit,” he continues, his breath ghosting across my cheek, “your mouth is going to get you in trouble one of these days.”
My pulse hammers against my throat. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise.” His eyes drop to my lips for just a moment before meeting my gaze again. “You have no idea how dangerous it is to provoke a man like me.”
The words should frighten me. Instead, they send liquid fire racing through my veins. I open my mouth to respond with something clever, but all that comes out is a breathless, “Oh.”
A dark and pleased expression crosses his face. “Speechless now?”
I bite my lip at his taunting tone, and I press my back harder against the tree, trying to create distance that doesn’t exist.
Before I can find my voice again, he pushes off the tree, leaving me there, gasping and confused. As he walks away from me, my gaze wanders to the broad line of Lucian’s shoulders, the way his dark shirt fits across his back. I shake my head and adjust the grip on my walking stick.
I’m clearly going crazy.
I hobble after him, and he slows his pace to fall into step beside me. Luna, who was walking behind us, suddenly jumps onto my shoulder, and I wince. “Claws in, Luna. You’re shredding my shoulder.”
Before the black cat can react, the mercenary next to me plucks her off my shoulder and puts her on his. And Luna, who has always watched Lucian with a baleful gaze since the first moment she met him, sprawls lazily over his shoulder.
I stare at them in shock. “What did you do to my cat?”
“Nothing.” He reaches up to scratch behind Luna’s ears, and she actually purrs. The sound is so loud, I can hear it from where I’m walking.
“She hates everyone but me,” I say, mystified. “She has never let anyone else touch her. Not even my friends.”
“Maybe she has good instincts.”
I watch his large hand move through Luna’s black fur with surprising gentleness. There’s something mesmerizing about the careful way he pets her, the way his fingers dwarf her small head. His hands are massive—long fingers and broad palms, with scarred knuckles that speak of countless fights.
Without thinking, I hold up my own hand at a distance, trying to compare the size. My palm looks ridiculously small in comparison, like a child’s hand next to an adult’s.
“What are you doing now?”
I freeze, mortified that he has caught me staring. “I was just...trying to see how big your hands are.”
He stops walking entirely, turning to face me with an expression I can’t quite read. “How big my hands are?”
Heat floods my cheeks. “They just look really big, that’s all.”
Instead of the exasperated response I expect, he steps toward me. Before I can protest, he reaches out and places his palm flat against mine, pressing our hands together.
My breath catches. His hand completely dwarfs mine, his fingers extending well past the tips of mine, his palm easily twice the width of mine. The warmth of his skin against mine sends an odd flutter through my stomach.
“Big enough?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Flustered, I quickly lower my hand, breaking the contact. “They’re...gigantic.”
He bristles. “Gigantic?”
“Well, yeah. Look at them!” I gesture helplessly. “They’re huge!”
“You’re short,” he counters, his voice flat.
“I’m average height!”
“For a child, maybe.”
I sputter indignantly. “I am not short! You’re just freakishly tall!”
“Freakishly tall?” His eyebrows rise menacingly.
“And your hands are enormous!”
“They’re proportionate to my body.”
“Your body is also enormous!”
He crosses his arms over his chest—his enormous chest—and glares down at me. “There’s nothing wrong with my size.”
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it! I just said you’re huge!”
“Huge,” he repeats.
“Like a mountain,” I add helpfully. Then, when his expression darkens further, I realize this may not have been the right thing to say.
We stare at each other for a moment, the tension palpable between us, before Luna’s purr breaks the silence. She is still perched on Lucian’s shoulder, completely unbothered by our bickering.
“Traitor,” I mutter to her.
We resume walking in strained silence, the only sounds the rustle of leaves and our footsteps. After a few minutes, curiosity gets the better of me.
“Since you’re a mercenary,” I begin hesitantly, “you don’t have a pack to call your own, right?”
He takes his time before responding. “Why do you ask?”
“How do you get healing tonics? Medical supplies?” I think about the bandages wrapped around his torso. “I mean, when you get injured and there’s no one like me around to patch you up.”
Another long pause. “I have…a way.”
The evasive answer makes me curious, but I don’t push. Instead, I offer him a small smile. “That must be nice. Having reliable sources, I mean.” The smile feels harder to maintain than usual. “I’m beginning to think I may not survive this infection in my leg.”
He stops abruptly. “What?”
“Oh, I’ll probably make it to Turnville,” I say quickly, noting his sharp tone. “Even with my slow pace, we should get there before it kills me. But even though I’m eating meat now, the infection isn’t going away. It’s actually getting worse.”
I’ve seen the angry red streaks that have started climbing up my thigh and can feel the fever that never quite broke despite the protein in my system. But oddly, the thought doesn’t terrify me the way it should.
A grin suddenly spreads across my face. “If I do die, you can take my money. All of it. But you’ll also have to take Luna and look after her.”
Lucian stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “I’ve never met anyone who’s so cheerful about dying.”
“You’ve never tasted freedom for the first time,” I counter, still grinning.
“I don’t care if I die because it’ll be on my own terms now.
And I know you’ll make sure nothing happens to my body.
” The last part comes out sounding more trusting than I intended.
But it’s true—I have complete faith that this man won’t let wild animals tear me apart if the worst happens.
Darkness flickers through his eyes, and his jaw tightens. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”
“You can’t control infection, Lucian. Even mercenaries have limits.”
“I said, nothing is going to happen to you.” His voice carries a note of authority that brooks no argument, as if he can command death itself to leave me alone.