CHAY
Audrey’s breathing was deep and even. I woke to the sound of running water, one of my arms asleep, but the precious bundle in my arms safe. I tried to shift a little. A small voice somewhere at the back of my brain said you can’t stay here all night, but that little voice didn’t know how much I wanted to continue my explorations of this woman.
She stirred and I opened my eyes, catching us on the edge of the lip of the bath before we both toppled in, strength shooting through my bloodstream at the close call.
Directly in front of me was a long hunting knife.
My heart froze in my chest. I followed the smoky steel up to see the ice-blue eyes of Isolde staring down at me, disgust on her face.
My hands flexed on Audrey. There were few in this world who could take her away.
Isolde was one of them.
She set the knife down beside me, her movements precise, then lent over and whispered in my ear, “Keep your blade close, next time.”
My heart was hammering wildly in my throat. I couldn’t have responded even if I’d had words. But she didn’t appear concerned, setting down clean clothes and vanishing behind the waterfall into what must have been the servant’s entryway.
I swallowed down the terror once, then twice. Nothing made a difference until Audrey stirred, looking up at me with the most wonderful sleepy scowl on her face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked me.
“Nothing’s wrong.” I wasn’t even lying. Nothing was going as expected, but it certainly wasn’t wrong.