Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ROSAMUND
Scooping cold water from the stream, I wash off the blood from the wound. It’s a bad cut. A human could become crippled from it, lose function in his arm, or the flesh might putrefy and force a healer to cut the arm off entirely.
But this is a dark fae. A shifter. The wound is already knitting together at the edges, a slow process, but much faster than anything I’ve ever seen.
He’s silent as I bend and tear off the hem of my petticoat, then wrap up his shoulder as tightly as I dare. Not too tight, not to stop the flow of blood through his veins. Tying up the knot, I tuck in the ends of the fabric and step back to admire my handiwork.
“You do know a thing or two about healing,” he says in his gravelly voice.
I shrug. “I like to hang around the manor staff back home. They are kind to me. Or were.” I chew on my lower lip. “Not everyone is out to kill me.”
“I’m sure they love you. You’re cute.”
“Cute?”
“Like a forest rabbit,” he says, his voice serious.
I scowl. “I beg your pardon. I’m a respectable lady.”
“But cute.” His mouth tugs into a grin, and the wolf traits fade more. His face is human-like now, his ears just pointy fae ears, the silver hoop glinting on the left. His mouth is… tempting.
I glance down to escape my obsessive staring and find that his legs and hands have also shifted back. His pants are so ruined, they’re coming apart at the seams, and the cloth is so stretched, it’s becoming threadbare over his thick-hewn thighs, and… and between his legs where…
Oh Gods…
A wave of scorching heat goes through me. The fabric is snug over the bulge there, clearly outlining heavy balls and a thick, long rod of—
“Everything all right, Princess?” He rolls his injured shoulder with a wince. “Great job you did with the bandage. I like it.”
“You… do?”
“Yeah. I think it helps?”
“Well, it should. You sound doubtful.” It’s a relief to be distracted from the proximity of his long, strong, hot body. “I thought you said I wasn’t such a bad healer.”
“You’re not. I’m just not used…” His throat works when he swallows and… looks away? Is Valen uncomfortable for some reason? My staring can’t be the issue. He’s always the one inviting me to look, teasing me, and making me blush.
And then it clicks. “Not used to someone tending to your wounds,” I whisper.
He shrugs. Winces again. “It’s not something you usually get, unless it’s your mate doing it for you.”
“What about when you were a child?”
“My mother,” he whispers. “She took care of me.”
An ache blooms in my chest. I’m so sorry for him, and I feel exactly his pain. It echoes between us, this loss, this empty space between our ribs where love used to live.
“I’m…” I dare touch him again without need—his wound already bandaged, his needs met—and slide it up his bare chest just to feel his skin, his muscles, his bones, his heartbeat. To feel his body, so alive and warm. “I’m sorry.”
“I know, Princess. So am I.” His head is tipped down, chin to his chest. He’s watching me but makes no move to touch me back, only observing me from hooded eyes. “You understand me in ways nobody else ever has.”
“But your people… your friends and family...”
“Only one who has felt such a loss can understand. Only one who has had to live with the pain can feel mine. Someone like you.”
Soul mates, I think, the words coming unbidden to my mind. Fated.
But that’s ridiculous. That bond binding two souls together is an old myth.
I haven’t heard anyone mention it outside of the legends of Aethre and Jaien, outside of fairytales and fables.
This tug between us is purely physical. He’s a handsome, strong male, no matter his true nature, and I’m a woman.
A woman slowly becoming cognizant of her awakening body’s desires.
It’s as if I’m thawing from the inside. Coming back to life, like a seed that has lain too long dormant in the frozen ground.
And I’m a woman betrothed to a lord, with a plan to go find him and have him exact justice on my behalf. So he can marry me, and we can set sail toward a bright future.
I can’t be lusting after a werewolf, beautiful and magnetic as he may be.
This isn’t my path.
What future would there be for us, even if he wanted to be with me and not only ravish and abandon me? If he even wants me that way and isn’t only teasing.
But that bulge between his legs... the things he says to me... the way he looks at me...
He’s a werewolf. A dark fae. You don’t know what such things mean to him. You don’t know if his cock is always this large, if his teasing can be cruel. Just because he’s saved you and been kind to you doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get off on making you uncomfortable and embarrassed.
“Princess?” He’s still watching my face, still unmoving. “A golden coin for your thoughts right now. They seem to be taking a dark direction, judging from your expression. Remember, I mean you no harm.”
Nodding, I step back again, ignoring his low sigh. “I think we should get going. Before another animal comes after us.”
He still doesn’t move. Doesn’t take his eyes off me. The tension between us builds, and I have to hold myself back from returning to him, from touching him again.
The need to feel his flesh under my hands is near unbearable.
But then, before I give in, he shakes his head and glances around. “You’re right. It’s time to go.”
“Why did you accept my deal?” I ask him later that day when we stop again for the night, sweaty and out of breath.
At least, I am sweaty and out of breath. Valen looks like he’s out on a stroll. Well, if you forget for a moment that he’s half-naked, only dressed in shredded pants and nothing else.
And how can I forget it? He’s right beside me, or ahead of me, or behind me, with his stupid muscular torso and arms bare, his stupid muscles and stupid handsome face, and stupid sexy grin…
Gods.
“Let’s just say… my curiosity was aroused.” He slows down and gives me a long once-over. “Along with other parts of me.”
See? He likes to tease. It means nothing.
Stupid. So stupid.
You are so stupid, Rosie.
“We were going to get rid of you on the way,” I blurt out, stopping, forcing him to stop, too.
“I know. I heard you making your plans.”
“My door was closed!”
He taps one of his ears. “Extra strong hearing. Better than light fae senses. It shouldn’t surprise you.”
No, it shouldn’t, yet I never considered the possibility that he already knew…
“Why didn’t you run?” I ask softly.
His gaze is level and clear. “We had a deal. We still have a deal.”
“Valen…”
“And I want to see you settled safely at your future home.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“No, I don’t. But I want to.” He reaches for me but stops himself before touching me—again. “I want to, Princess.”
And searching his face, his gaze, I think he’s telling the truth.