Chapter 7
Seven
I wasn’t sure either of them was aware I could understand them. Not everything in its entirety, but enough to know why they were arguing. Finn stopped by when Zoya was busy to keep me company, and he spent most of his visits teaching me the language. Apparently, he was writing a book for the clan’s language, so it was easier to teach it to tributes when they came to join the clan. The language itself wasn’t actually that hard to learn, but he spoke with many of the other tributes, who said it sometimes took months for them to be able to have anything resembling a conversation because some of the barbarians didn’t know how to teach a language. Like Verus. He had good intentions, but aside from pointing at things and naming them, he didn’t really know how to teach me.
It still surprised me how determined Verus was to be my protector. I thought he’d consider his duties done once I was moving on my own, so I mentioned the crutches to Zoya, but if anything, it only made him more determined to take over my care.
Was it wrong that I was charmed by that?
“He doesn’t need a protector. He is not a tribute. He is a visitor who was injured,” Zoya snapped, glaring at him. She followed up with a sentence too fast for me to catch, but it made Verus very unhappy.
“He is mine, Zoya,” he practically bellowed. When I looked over my shoulder at him, his teeth were bared like they were in the forest the day he rescued me. He looked feral and dangerous, not like the sweet man I’d come to know.
Worried he’d do something crazy like try to kidnap me again, I carefully turned around, wobbling with every movement thanks to my limited grasp on how to use the crutches effectively. My movements at least claimed Verus’s attention before he went on a rampage. He didn’t normally act this way, so I was confused about why he was so angry now.
When I faced him, Verus looked like he was fighting his emotions. He’d been careful around me since scaring me that first day. He was trying to mask his anger so he didn’t frighten me again.
Balancing on my good leg, I reached for him, touching his cheek gently. It pulled his attention down to me, and his face softened little by little. My ability to understand the language was better than my ability to speak it, but I did my best to communicate with him.
“Why angry?”
He shook his head, denying me, so I pushed again. “Why Verus angry?”
He sighed. “Patrick is hurt. I want to help.”
Butterflies fluttered in my belly, and while I did my best not to trust those feelings anymore, it didn’t stop me from blushing all the way up to my hairline. Finn had warned me that the barbarians were criminally sweet and would win me over. I needed to have better control over my emotions. I wasn’t going to stay. I wasn’t a tribute. I had no place here.
Since he was so determined to help, I figured a task would distract him enough for me to speak with Zoya alone. I waved a hand at my clothes and winced. “New clothes?”
I was not walking, or hobbling, around the clan in just a tunic. It barely landed mid thigh, and I’d had to beg Finn for my smallclothes back because I didn’t like how exposed I was. I couldn’t dress like this forever, and I couldn’t put my leg in trousers while it was splinted, so I wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Verus tipped his head, looking me over before turning to Zoya, his tone gruff but resigned. “He can wear leg coverings?”
She still looked annoyed, but my ploy worked to distract them both. Verus scooped me up and settled me on the bed while they discussed options for me to cover myself. It still stunned me every time that he moved me around so easily. He acted as though I weighed as little as Finn did.
“Ask Naeth to create something. It has to go over the splint without jostling but still keep him warm.”
Verus nodded and stood, taking a step toward the exit before turning around again. “Patrick okay?”
A smile tugged at my lips as I nodded. “I’m okay. See you later.”
He looked reluctant but eventually left. Zoya sighed heavily after he stepped out, shaking her head.
Switching to my own language, since it was easier for me, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. He’s just being stubborn. Since he only knows the process for caring for tributes, he sees no other option. I’ve lost count of how many conversations I’ve had with him this week about not moving you to his tent.”
“Why would he want to do that?” I asked, alarmed.
She shrugged. “It’s just the way things work here. When tributes first arrive, they can’t be trusted not to run away. As you well know, it’s dangerous in the forest, and I can’t tell you how many women got hurt before the clan put a rule in place that tributes stay in their protector’s tents until they understand they’re safe here and why it’s dangerous to leave alone.”
“And he wants me to stay with him? It’s not like I can run away.” I gestured wryly to my leg.
She chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s not about that. The tributes usually stay longer with their protectors because they’re comfortable with them. The protectors teach them how the clan functions and how important they are. About fifty percent of the time, the protectors also become bondmates to their tributes. You might be trusted not to run, but you still need a lot of care. He wants to take on that responsibility and keep you close. I’m just worried he’s going to forget that your stay is only temporary. You weren’t heading for us when you were in the forest, were you?”
I shook my head. No one had asked yet why I was in the forest. They saw I needed help and took care of me. That had warmed me a lot to the clan since I arrived.
“Technically, I wasn’t running to anywhere. I was running away. I’m still worried they’re going to show up here and try to force me back so they can punish me properly.”
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Did you do something wrong?”
“Who did what wrong?” Finn asked as he slipped into the tent. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair was disheveled. It was still shocking to see such blatant evidence that he was bonded to a man and quite happy with the arrangement.
Zoya waved him over, her eyes still locked on me. “Patrick was telling me how he ended up in that forest alone.”
Chewing on my bottom lip, I dropped my gaze to my lap. I didn't want to admit it out loud. But they’d been so kind to me. It felt wrong to keep them in the dark.
“I, uh… I was approached by someone… Another man in town. He was a bully in my youth, and I was surprised when he asked to speak with me alone. He confessed to me that he’d been so cruel all those years because he was in love with me and too scared to admit it. He begged for my forgiveness and told me he wanted a relationship with me. I was so starved for affection, I agreed with him and let him convince me to—” I swallowed hard around the embarrassment, tears pricking my eyes. “To use my mouth on him…” Shame made it impossible to look up, and I spat out the rest as quickly as I could. “After he’d finished, his friends showed up saying it was all a ruse. They wanted to stage it like I’d gotten him drunk and assaulted him. I got scared. So I ran. I should’ve known better. He’s always hated me. I was an idiot and?—”
“Why is Patrick crying?”
Verus’s growl made me jump. I hadn’t heard him enter over the pounding of my heart in my ears. I panicked, shrinking in on myself, worried that Finn or Zoya would tell him my shame, but he didn’t demand again. Instead, he scooped me up carefully and sat in my place, cradling me against his chest as he petted my hair. The freely given affection tore me apart after admitting what I’d done to even get a scrap of attention. I sobbed against his chest until my lungs burned and my eyes felt swollen. He shushed me gently, like a mother would her babe, and when I quieted a little, he hummed a little tune to soothe me.
At some point while I was crying, someone propped my injured leg on some cushions to make me more comfortable in Verus’s lap. I stayed that way for who knew how long until the ache in my heart settled into something manageable. Not once did Verus complain that I was heavy or a sissy for crying like a girl. I’d spent years learning to hide my emotions and come off more manly, but it just wasn’t who I was. And he seemed okay with that.
When I started to nod off, Verus moved to lay me back down on my bed. I clutched harder at his tunic when he tried to pull away.
“Please don’t go.”
I’d said it in my own language, to exhausted to attempt to translate, but he seemed to understand. His expression softened, and he settled beside me on the opposite side of my injured leg, humming and stroking my hair until I fell asleep cuddled against him.
Why couldn’t I have found a man like him before any of this happened? I would have gladly volunteered as a tribute if I knew Verus was waiting for me on the other side.