The Hunter #3
Half her mouth curled in a smile. “That sounds quite nice. Too bad I completely ruined those plans.”
I stilled her hand, forcing her gaze to meet mine. “You didn’t.”
She wet her lips, drawing my eyes to the flick of her tongue. She dragged the edge of the rag against my lower lip, tugging it downward. A groan built in my throat from the slow, seductive movement.
Eira’s eyes burned into mine, but she continued her meticulous work, rubbing the cloth into my beard, sweeping away coats of dirt and blood that had been caked in. With her free hand, she traced a faint scar that ran from my temple to my cheek, then another just above my eyebrow.
“I never noticed these before,” she said. “How did you get them?”
“The small one was from a soldier in the Sea Court,” I said. “I was young and cocky, and he almost got the better of me. The longer scar is from the first Demon Fae I fought.”
Her eyes lifted to mine once more, worry and admiration glowing in her gaze. “You live a dangerous life, hunter.”
“Yes, I do.”
She returned to her cleaning, the rag running down my neck and dipping under my collar. Water trickled down my chest, and I shivered.
“There is… a lot more of you I still need to clean.” Eira dropped her gaze as she plunged the rag into the bowl to wring it out once more. The clear water was now stained with flecks of brown and red.
Need pulsed within me from her words, and I remembered how close we’d come to taking each other in the woods earlier.
Did she really mean it? Before, I hadn’t been certain if she truly wanted me, or just wanted me to feel something, to keep me from making a stupid choice like getting myself killed.
But now?
Eira withdrew the rag from the bowl and slowly began to lift my shirt. When I tensed, she raised her eyes to mine again. Her eyebrows lifted expectantly. “What, you’re too bashful to let me clean you?”
A heady laugh burned against my throat, but it sounded hoarse and strained. She eased up the edge of my shirt, then slid the rag underneath to wipe across my chest.
“Blood and ice,” I whispered, closing my eyes to relish the feel of the cloth gliding along my skin.
“This will be easier if you remove your clothes,” Eira said. “Unless you want me to do it.”
A hot lump formed in my throat, and I couldn’t breathe for a moment.
Eira was tugging at the bottom of my shirt, and I let her lift it over my head. She surveyed me with heated desire brimming in her eyes. She pressed her lips together before continuing to scrub at the dirt and blood on my chest.
My skin was on fire everywhere she touched me. As the wet rag glided along my skin, all I thought of was how much I yearned to grab her waist and pull her against me.
Eira hissed suddenly. “Damn, Theron.”
I followed her gaze, noting a gash along my ribs that was trickling fresh blood. The wound must have reopened when I’d dragged the soldier’s body into the closet.
“Here.” She moved to the table and tore several long strips of fabric before wrapping them around my chest, securing the cloth over the wound.
I could only stare at her and the determined, focused glint in her eyes as she worked.
She might have been teasing me before, but now she was committed to the task at hand.
I was breathless at the sight of this fierce, unstoppable woman.
No one had ever cared for me when I was wounded before, except perhaps my mother when I was a child. For most of my life, I’d had to take care of myself. Survive on my own. Tend to my wounds in solitude.
The sight of Eira so devoted to cleaning me and wrapping my injury—it made my throat go hot with unexpected emotion.
No one cared… except for her.
When she tied off the cloth, she rested her palm against my chest, as if to feel my heartbeat. She went perfectly still, her breath quivering. “Better?” she whispered. She gazed up at me, those infinite blue eyes pulling me in.
My hand clasped hers, pressing it closer to my heart.
“Eira,” I said quietly.
“Theron.”
Our gazes held for a few heartbeats before I found my voice again. “What did you mean back in Tolston… when you said I was yours?”
Her lips parted in surprise, and she said nothing at first. Her eyes dropped, then lifted again as if she had to force herself to meet my gaze. “I—I meant that you… you…” She licked her lips and tried again. “I want you to be mine. I want you to belong to me. To stay by my side. To fight with me.”
“As your soldier? Your protector?”
“As my lover. My partner. My equal.”
My breath hitched. The blush in her cheeks deepened, but her pale eyes held mine.
Lover.
Gods, this woman would be the death of me. She tormented me, taunted me, frustrated me… And yet, everything inside me sang with conviction from her words. Because I wanted her by my side, too. As my partner. My equal. My lover.
I didn’t even care that I had failed. Years of killing and hunting, and this was the first time I had failed. Instead of taking her heart, she had claimed mine.
It felt like a victory instead of a defeat.
I leaned in until my nose brushed against hers. She sucked in a breath, her eyelids fluttering.
Just before my mouth met hers, I murmured, “I am yours, Eira.”