Chapter 20
Katie
Iwake to a golden light basking me in the coziest warmth, so much so that I bury myself deeper into the blankets, not wanting to open my eyes and face the day.
I can’t remember the last time I woke up feeling warm and cozy, and as well rested as I do.
It takes a millisecond to realize something is all wrong.
I open my eyes under the covers, faced with the dark, while I figure out what the hell is going on and where I am.
The last thing I remember is the freezing cold of the snow on the mountain.
The mountain I fell off.
I throw the furs back with a gasp, sitting up and rubbing my hands all over my body to check for injuries.
I pause when I realize I’m stripped down to my underwear.
Blood drains from my face as I stare at my exposed and unblemished skin.
It’s disconcerting to know I should feel like I fell off a mountain, if I wasn’t dead, but only my scalp feels tender.
My fingers trace over a new scar on the back of my head.
The wound is healed, but still sensitive to touch.
It’s the only sign that it really did happen.
One moment, I was panicking, and then the ground beneath me disappeared.
I took one step too far backwards, my heel catching on the edge of the cliff.
Asterion’s look of horror as he disappeared, until it was only the sky above, the mountain below, and the flurries of snow drifting down around me while I fell.
I could feel my stomach lurch into my throat to cut off my scream, and then I made contact with the ground, or some semblance of a hard surface—the mountainside covered in snow.
I must’ve hit my head then because there is nothing after that.
What the fuck happened?
I register the room I’m in—mud brick walls, a familiar-looking chair off to the side.
Asterion’s home. No sign of him, though.
There’s a pressing need in my bladder, so I test my shaky legs on the floor, slipping out of what I assume is Asterion’s bed.
My face flushes with heat. Where has he been sleeping if I’ve been here?
My body feels weak, like I’ve been bedridden for a few days.
My knees give out beneath me and I go down with a yelp.
Thunderous footsteps sound from outside before Asterion appears in the doorway.
“You are awake.”
There’s no time for pleasantries. “Bathroom!”
My heart flutters rapidly in my chest to see him, and I can’t differentiate if it’s from fear or relief.
He rushes to me, helping me up from the floor in one swoop, so I’m cradled in his arms, before he takes me outside and around the back of his hut.
He places me on an oversized stool with a circle cut out of the middle over a rather deep hole in the ground.
It’s a long drop. I don’t know why I’m disappointed to not find a flushing toilet—or a door.
After everything I’ve witnessed so far, it’s clear modern amenities aren’t easily come by here, but it’s an improvement over going to the bathroom in the open air of the mountain. Though that view was better.
“Do you need help?” His offer is genuine, and I shake my head, unable to speak. The embarrassment of needing him to carry me out here is enough.
“I will be around the corner. Call for me if you need.”
I’d rather fall down this hole than call for his help. I bite my lip, trying to wiggle my underwear down while also making sure that doesn’t happen. I sigh from the sheer relief of emptying my bladder, the tension melting from my body.
When I’m finished, I give my legs a firm talking to.
We’re going to walk back. We’re not going to call for Asterion to help.
I use the wall of the hut as leverage, using it to support me as I shuffle back around the front.
Asterion looks up from where he kneels before his vegetable garden, jumping up and rushing to my side.
“I said to call for me,” he growls, picking me back up in his arms and taking me inside to set me back down in his bed of furs. I don’t protest even though I know I should. I don’t have the energy to argue. I’m already exhausted again, and sleep pulls me under as soon as my head hits the furs.
“Eat.”
I groan, stretching out my limbs like a cat in a warm patch of sunlight, before opening my eyes.
I come face to face with Asterion, and I don’t miss the heated gaze he rakes down my body.
I gulp, pulling the furs I must’ve kicked off at some point back over me.
Asterion’s home is sweltering, leaving me with the sticky feeling of dried sweat over my skin.
I ignore the bowl he holds in front of my face.
“Where are my clothes?”
“Eat, and I will tell you.”
I scowl at him. “I’m not eating that.”
He grabs my chin. “You will eat it.”
“I won’t.” I clench my teeth. He’ll have to pry my mouth open with his fingers if he thinks I’m going to eat anything he cooks for me. I may have fallen off a mountain, but I haven’t forgotten what it was we were arguing about.
He looks at me as if prying my mouth open is exactly what he’s thinking about doing.
He frowns. “Why not?”
I pull my chin out of his grip, surprised he asked me instead of just arguing with me again.
“I’m not eating human meat! You might have tricked me before, but now I know, I won’t eat it again!” Just the thought of it has my stomach turning. I don’t know how I’m supposed to live with the guilt of this dirty little secret I’ll have to carry with me forever now.
He sighs, running his hand over his face, and I notice he looks tired and worn.
“It is not human meat.” He rolls his eyes, shaking his head.
“You said—” I go to argue.
“If you had not fallen off the side of the mountain, you would have heard me finish my sentence. It is not human.” He growls impatiently and shoves the bowl in my hands.
“If you are so insistent on your assumption, perhaps I should show you what I really want to eat.” He leans in so I’m face to face with him, and my heart skips a beat.
My lady parts tingle, and I swallow thickly.
I look down at the bowl, noticing it’s just a clear broth. It’s probably safe. My eyes flick back to his.
“You swear?”
“I swear.”
Against my better judgment, I lift the bowl to my lips and take a mouthful. It’s delicious as usual, even for a clear broth. I’m pretty sure he could make a lump of dirt taste good.
“That’s it. Swallow it all for me.” Asterion growls in approval.
I squeak, squeezing my thighs together. His words tingle down my spine, right to my core. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply with a satisfied hum.
When I’ve finished, I hand the bowl back to him. “Thanks.”
A weight is lifted from my shoulders if I’m to trust that he’s telling the truth, though I really have no reason not to believe him.
“It’s a good thing I didn’t overreact then,” I say sheepishly.
There’s a loaded silence between us as he takes my bowl to wash it up.
“So, um, how long have I been out for?”
“Four days.” He keeps his back turned to me.
“Four days! You’ve looked after me this entire time?”
I’ve clearly been well cared for. My clothes are missing, and I assume he took me to the spring to heal any injuries I must’ve had.
But more noticeably, my hair has been brushed, and my skin is clean, albeit sweaty.
His chest rumbles with a growl, and I’m confused as to why he’s acting so weird.
What does he care if I eat or if my hair is brushed?
Why does he help me? It’s a far cry from the snippy asshole who dumped me on the ground every time he needed to wake me up. Maybe he fell and hit his head, too.
“Why did you rescue me? Why have you looked after me? Why… any of it? You were so eager to get rid of me, it doesn’t make any sense.”
His head bows as he grips the edge of the counter, his back muscles taut.
“Because even as frustrating as you are, I could not bear to see you die. My heart ripped itself to shreds inside my chest in its effort to follow you over that edge.”
“Y-you followed me?”
“I will always follow you.” He turns to face me, a serious look on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Is that a threat?”
“It is a promise, little viper.”