Chapter 22
Alette
It’s been another long day of walking, and we’re ready for a rest. Not just a rest. We’re ready to get out of our crispy clothes, to bathe away the sweat and dirt from the past few days, and certainly ready to sleep in a real bed rather than the hard earth.
Not that any of those things are going to happen.
It takes another hour before we find the river running through the edge of another nice clearing.
When we do, it’s almost by accident. One second we’re pushing through a tunnel of hedge so thick it’s like walking in a coffin, the next, the world opens up, and there the river is, slicing between the green walls.
The clear water is moving fast, and just from looking at it, it’s cold enough to hurt.
Cassius, the water expert, squats and cups a handful, tasting it with a slurp. “Not poison,” he announces, as if we all hadn’t seen him drink from worse since coming here.
The others follow, quick and businesslike, kneeling down and drinking from the stream.
I try not to stare at Oberon’s hands, knuckles scraped raw, dirt packed in every groove, veins bulging under the skin, but I can’t help it.
It’s not just the new wounds I’ve noticed that he got from the metal tunnel we’d been trapped in.
He’s got scars on his wrists, a little line of burns, and I wonder where they all came from.
Looking away, I kneel down and drink until I’m full. Until the nagging hunger inside of me abates, if only a little bit. When I glance up, the others are standing, watching me with so much interest that I blush and rise from beside the stream.
Cassius is the one who says what I’m thinking. “We should get cleaned up while we can.” He removes his sword belt. “It’s only going to get colder. We should get our stuff clean and dry it out by the fire. Who knows the next time we’ll have access to clean water.”
“Good idea,” Sylvian says, reaching for his shirt.
I shrug off my cloak and reach for the buttons on my shirt too, then freeze, the reality of what I’m doing hitting me.
I stop as my mind starts working. I want to be clean.
Gods, I’ve never wanted anything more. The dirt clings to me like it belongs there, soaked into my skin, my hair, my bones.
My shirt is stiff with it, glued to my back with sweat and grime.
But they’re here. All four of them. Watching.
The thought of stripping in front of them makes my stomach twist. Heat crawls up my neck, sharp and humiliating. I can’t do it. I can’t let them see me like that. Bare. Vulnerable. Scarred. Human.
And yet the filth is unbearable, a second skin I can’t escape. I don’t know how many more days until I’ll have another chance to bathe. How many more nights I’ll have to endure feeling like this, unclean, worn down, less than myself.
So, what do I do?
Ashton, with none of my inner turmoil, starts stripping like a madman.
He unbuckles his sword belt and drops it on the ground, then peels off his shirt.
His chest is all lean muscle and angles, marked here and there with old scars, but not a single hair anywhere.
He catches me looking and grins, flexing just enough to make it a joke. “Like what you see, human?”
I’m not quick enough to stop my face from burning. “Of course not!”
“There’s no harm in it,” he says, taking a step closer to me. “Any woman would look.”
Oberon snorts, the sound sharp as a spark.
“Try not to drown yourself with admiration,” he says to Ashton, but he’s pulling off his own shirt too.
He’s thicker through the shoulders, broader everywhere, with the kind of body built for breaking things.
There’s a line of old scars at his collarbone, lots more across his entire body, plus a few scattered burns.
He doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care, if I see.
Sylvian slowly begins undressing, watching me with every small flick of his fingers. “Where did you get all the scars, Oberon? Did you like it too rough?”
“Wars with the monsters,” he says simply.
Wars with the monsters? I didn’t know fae had enemies.
To my surprise, Sylvian flinches. “I heard rumors. Rumors about it. That you were taken prisoner for a time…”
“Yes.” Oberon’s hands linger on the front of his pants.
“Sorry,” Sylvian says quietly. Sincerely.
“Is that where your fear of small spaces comes from?” Cassius asks, studying the other man carefully.
Oberon shrugs, not looking at any of us. “Maybe.”
Maybe? My heart aches for him. He was held prisoner? Tortured? No wonder he has some rough edges.
Oberon clears his throat. “Let’s move on.”
Everyone does while they continue to undress, and I stare on, feeling uncertain. I’m not sure exactly how I should handle this situation, but I’m having trouble taking my eyes off all the muscled flesh around me.
Cassius is the last to drop his shirt, and I’m surprised by how pale he is. Just like his pale eyes and his pale hair, his skin is inhumanely light, like milk. I’m studying him closely when he reaches for the buttons on his pants, and I jerk my head away, spinning away from them.
Behind me, I hear the sounds of the four men entering the river, and my face burns at the thought of them naked behind me. This isn’t normal… it can’t be. People don’t just… strip in front of each other.
“It’s safe to look,” Sylvian teases.
I cautiously turn back and see the three of them splashing and washing off the grime, concealed from the waist up by the water.
They all have their backs to me, but it doesn’t matter.
There’s not a single inch of them that isn’t perfect.
I’ve never felt particularly beautiful, but seeing them, however, makes me feel like something ugly and flawed.
I take a few steps away from the river, feeling awkward.
Like I’m not sure what to do with myself.
Oberon dips into the water and then explodes back out, throwing his hair back, the water gliding over his big arms, his broad chest, and down to his smooth stomach.
I force my gaze up, and find him staring back at me, his gaze as hot as flames.
Looking away, I try to ignore the racing of my heart, but all of this is so new to me.
The only men I’ve ever seen shirtless were my dad and my grandpa.
This is a whole other experience. Glancing back, I see Sylvian’s hands scrubbing his stomach, and my mouth goes dry.
The unexplainable need to offer him my help comes and goes when I catch him smiling at me.
Instead of finding a safe place to look, I glance at Ashton.
He’s leaning down, his ass just barely surfacing above the water.
When our eyes meet, he winks at me, and I feel like I’m dying.
And then, because I’m a sucker for punishment, I glance at Cassius.
He’s cleaning himself methodically, like he wants to ensure each part of him is clean, and there’s something so hot about knowing he’s got such a good attention to detail.
Our gazes meet, and he says, “Alette, you know you can come in the water with us. Right?”
“She’s shy,” Ashton says, his tone teasing.
My blush is painful. “Human women, we don’t… we don’t just jump naked into rivers with muscular fae men.”
“She thinks we’re muscular,” Sylvian jokes.
I thought my face couldn’t get hotter. I was wrong. “It’s… unseemly.”
“Alette,” Ashton says, a smile tugging at his lips. “You know we’ve all already imagined you naked, so this wouldn’t really be that different.”
My jaw drops open. So, the fire fae woman was right. They see me in a sexual way…
“Hey!” Cassius says.
“Tell me you haven’t,” Ashton challenges, giving the water fae a look.
Cassius glances away, suddenly very preoccupied with scrubbing his arm.
“I-it’s not the same thing,” I argue.
“We could look away?” Oberson suggests.
I bite my lip. “I think I’ll just wait until you’re done.”
“Suit yourself,” Sylvian says with a grin.
“But enjoy the show,” Ashton says, standing up taller as the water drops lower and lower until I jerk my gaze away, and his rich laughter fills the air.
I wait until they’re finished, and wait still while they gather branches and make a fire on the far side of the clearing and gather around it, before I finally work up the courage to clean myself.
My hands shake as I strip off my filthy shirt and pants, but I keep my eyes on the ground and change fast, bundling myself into a spare blanket before the last layer is even off.
Just in case. I dunk my clothes in the river, scrubbing the worst of the dirt and sweat out with a flat rock.
The chill of the water makes my skin go numb, but at least it feels clean.
When I’m done with the clothes, I glance back at the men.
They don’t look my way, so I release a deep breath, drop my blankets, and rush into the water.
I immediately shrink down, so my chest is covered by the freezing water.
A shudder rolls through my body, but I force myself to wash myself while my teeth chatter.
Washing my hair, I lift out of the water just a little bit and catch Ashton’s gaze.
To my surprise, he doesn’t look away, just stares hungrily, like I’m something good he wants to eat, which is unnerving.
He’s still staring when Sylvian looks my way.
He bites his lip when he sees me look back at him, and I wonder what he’s thinking about.
I keep scrubbing myself when Cassius glances over.
His eyes widen when he sees me staring back, and he quickly looks away.
I’m feeling all sorts of things when Oberon turns and fixes his gaze on me.
What is it with these men? I imagine they’ve seen more naked women than I can count.
Teething chattering, I say, “I’m going to get out. Can you guys not look?”
“That’s a crime,” Ashton argues.
“It’s a punishment,” Sylvian corrects.
“She’s just asking us to be gentlemen,” Cassius tells them quietly.