“You can collect a few more branches,” I suggested once she had calmed a little. “I will take care of the rest.”
The way she followed my suggestion with no protest, her face pale, her expression vacant, sent a flash of worry through me. Radaremained silent when she returned after a while and handed me the Fire stone. I used its magic to ignite a blaze.
Her hand found mine, though, as the ravenous flames consumed the once lively Itzi. I pressed back, not letting go, the blood sticking our skin together.
The blood was everywhere.
It drenched our clothes, the soaked fabric clinging uncomfortably to my skin as we trekked back to the farm, the coppery scent overwhelming. It soiled our boots, each step leaving macabre marks on the muddy path as we moved away from the still-smoldering pyre. It had even splattered across Rada’s face like gruesome paint, a single drop clinging to one of her lashes where she had wiped her temple with stained fingers in exhaustion.
“We need to bathe,” I said when we reached the farm.
She didn’t reply, simply following me as I pulled her toward the outdoor shower at the back of the house. Concern swelled within me when she just stood there, making no move to undress, her expression hauntingly lost.
“Let’s get you out of those.” I gestured at her soiled clothes. She didn’t stop me as I knelt and untied her boots. Not a word escaped her as I undressed myself next, letting my tunic, breeches, and underthings fall to the floor.
Her nod as I reached for her blouse with a soft “May I?” was so slight it was nearly imperceptible.
My worry deepened when she did not react as I carefully untangled the bindings of her chemise, not even when I tugged down her breeches, leaving her completely bare before me. I unwound herbraid. The only thing shielding her body from my gaze was the cascade of her fiery hair. She had let me undress her like a malleable little puppet. Shock. Whatever corner of her mind she had retreated to, I couldn’t follow. All I could do was take care of her to the best of my abilities, as insufficient as they might be.
I discarded our clothes on the floor outside the shower, deeming them beyond saving. There would be time to burn them later. Then I turned back to Rada.
If I were a better man, I wouldn’t have noticed how the water pearled over her luscious curves as I turned on the shower, how it mixed with the blood and dripped down in rivulets, painting her body in rust-red stripes. Butlyr, it had been so long, and she was so beautiful and so close. I had lived through—had done—too many grisly things to be dissuaded by a little bit of blood.
I hadn’t mentioned the kiss we had shared amid the storm, conscious that it might have been meaningless, a spur-of-the-moment act born out of necessity. Yet the awareness of how she had tasted, how it had felt to drown in her and the magic flowing between us, pounded through my veins in a heady rush. A dark part of me yearned to push her against the wooden wall of the shower. To lose myself in her heat while the water cleansed us both, a glorious reminder that we were still alive. That she was mine, despite it all. To have and protect.
What held me back was not common sense or morals; it was the way Rada stayed lethargic even now, neither teased nor chastised me for my noticeable arousal. All fire, all bite, had gone out of her, leaving behind only a disconcerting vulnerability in their ashes.
And she trusted me. She trusted me to be here when she was at her weakest. The revelation made me keep a tight control on my every movement; efficient, brief touches to soap her up and wash thesuds and blood away, never lingering too long in one place, not even when I knelt to wash her legs and feet.
I was even quicker as I scrubbed myself clean, cursing as I realized I had to fetch towels. When I returned, Rada was still under the warm shower, eyes closed and unmoving. She shivered when I turned off the water, but said nothing as I wrapped a towel around her and lifted her into my arms.
She seemed smaller and more delicate than ever, nestled against me, her hand resting on my bare chest. A fierce protectiveness surged through me, the impulse to shield her from harm astonishing in its intensity.
“Tempted to take advantage right now?”
Her soft inquiry snapped me back to reality. She wasn’t as out of it as I had thought. She sensed the risk of us tumbling into the wonderful comfort physical intimacy could bring. Her hand on my chest trailed slowly up and down, a barely-there caress, her eyes hooded. I considered throwing all caution to the wind. The shrewd manipulator inside me recognized the opportunity to pull her more firmly into my grasp, with instincts honed over centuries.
Yet… I had promised her this time would be different. This was the moment when I had to prove it was more than just pretty words. ThatIwasn’t the one she needed to be protected from most. Both to her and to myself.
“You always tempt me, little queen.” I kissed the crown of her head, her wet hair cool beneath my lips. “But I promise I won’t do anything you’re not asking me to.”
Rada watched me with enormous silver eyes as I carried her to her room and carefully placed her on the bed. Her gaze never left me as she wordlessly nestled under the blankets.
As I stepped back and murmured, “I should get us some clothes,”she moved with astonishing swiftness, though. Her hand closed around my wrist, holding me captive.
“Please, don’t leave me.”
A desperate plea, one I was far too weak to resist. Against my better judgment, I yielded and let her pull me onto the bed.
“I won’t.” The sheets felt wonderfully soft as I lay beside her. But not as soft as her skin as she immediately slid close to me, her head coming to rest on my chest, the entire length of her shapely body pressing against me.
I was aware of every single spot where we touched. Every breath I took was slow and deep, carefully measured. My gaze fixed on the ceiling, watching the setting sun paint the room in gold and red, the colors so vivid they resembled a blazing fire.
How fitting. Her touch was burning me alive.
The world soon became dark and quiet, the only sound the steady rhythm of Rada’s breathing. So steady that I thought she had fallen asleep. Then, her lips whispered over the skin of my throat, her voice so soft I barely heard it over the roaring thunder of my heartbeat.
“I know I should not be.” An open-mouthed kiss over my pulse, her fluttering tongue tasting me. “But I am glad you are here. With me.”
