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The pinning she’d done on his arms was a poor job, because it was the knife at his throat that was the real threat, so it wasn’t too difficult for him to work his arm free. He did so slowly and—just as slowly—covered her hand where it gripped the knife.
“Good so far?”
Her arm trembled. She steadied it and nodded.
“What about now?” His fingers curled around the back of her hand. She nodded again and he drew her hand away. Her fingers finally loosened, knife clattering to the ground. She took a deep, shuddering breath and dropped her forehead to his chest.
“I’m sorry.” She’d never said those words to anyone but him, and now she’d said them twice in a span of minutes.
“It’s all right.”
“It’s not. I don’t want to be like this with you.” It was one thing, what had happened with Fitz. That hadn’t been unprovoked and, if he couldn’t have predicted her response, it had still been his fault. But this had just happened. Because she hadn’t known where she was when she first woke and it had been dark and she’d heard a noise. A simple, stupid noise.
“We are who we are, Clare. I don’t blame you for it.”
“Maybe you should.”
“And maybe you shouldn’t.”
She ignored that bit of advice. “I promise I’ll get off you as soon as I can move.” Pinning a person to the ground required far more physical contact than they ever shared, and she didn’t want to be another touch he didn’t want, but her limbs wouldn’t unfreeze.
He spoke, his voice a little odd. “I don’t mind so much.”
“I don’t either.” She’d answered without thinking, but the realization that she didn’t mind was like a plunge into ice-cold water. Suddenly every part of her body was working perfectly fine, and she vaulted off him.
What in Ferrian’s name was wrong with her? What was this nice place with its nice people and its seeming lack of atrocities doing to her?
Numair sat up, dragging a hand through his hair.
I don’t mind so much? Where had that come from?
He’d realized how it probably sounded the second it left his mouth, but then she’d said I don’t either and he’d thought maybe it hadn’t been the worst thing to say after all. Except then she’d leapt across half the room to get away from him.
Silence with her had never been awkward, and he didn’t like the way it was morphing into that now. For lack of any better idea, he swiped the makeshift knife off the ground and offered it to her. She took it but didn’t immediately put it away, staring down at it instead.
“I can’t sleep without a weapon.” She finally stowed it away. “So I’ll sleep in the tent tonight.”
He understood the reaction. He would be having it himself were their positions reversed. But… “You didn’t have an issue on the way here, and you don’t at home. So what’s the problem? The darkness? The small space? The unexpected noise?”
She got that cross look on her face that, if he was being honest with himself, he absolutely loved. Then she blew out an irritated breath and said, “The darkness. The space wouldn’t be a problem if it didn’t feel so…dead. Your room has the night flowers, and mine has a window and the hibiscus. Without those, the noise was…instinct awakening.”
“So some night flowers and a little extra light would probably fix the problem?”
She huffed out a breath. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what? Make you comfortable when I’m the one who dragged you out here without any explanation?” In retrospect, that had been a terrible idea. But he hadn’t told her where they were going because he hadn’t wanted her to say no. It had been selfish, but here they were.
“I’m the one who agreed to come without any explanation.” She broke eye contact. “I don’t want to be a problem.”
“It’s never a problem to make you feel safe.”
She shook her head. “I shouldn’t need it. I don’t want to need it.”
“We need what we need.”
She smiled bitterly. “Like we are who we are?”
“Like that, yes.”
