My expression remained impassive, though my pulse quickened.
She set a cool hand on my forehead. “Your fever broke this morning. I didn’t want to risk waking you before then.”
My lips were raw, my mouth parched. “How long have I been here?”
“Three days. I’ve been trying to heal you. The vuk poisoned you when it bit you—in addition to the wounds it gave you.”
The vuk. The memory rushed back—the beast’s massive jaws clamping down, the searing pain as its teeth sank into flesh.
I shouldn’t have survived.
I stared at her. “Why?”
Her brows knit together, confusion flashing across her face. “Why what?”
“Why save me? Your kind kills Liriens on sight.”
Something flickered in her expression—guilt, maybe. “Because you saved me first.”
She tucked her feet beneath her and settled back more comfortably. When I’d first come across her, I’d noticed she was small and lithe, but there hadn’t been time to really look at her.
She was striking. My nursemaids had raised me on stories of wretched, hideous forest dwellers, but I’d seen enough Viori women to know those tales were lies. The ones I’d encountered in battle were as rugged as their male companions—short hair, faces painted for war.
She wore a fur-lined leather vest over her shirt, the sleeves cut to expose her shoulders. A complex tattoo of knots and runes wound from her left wrist to her elbow. A tanned complexion spoke of days outside, and her dark brown hair was plaited in a long braid over her shoulder, streaked with golden blond I hadn’t noticed during our encounter before. Nor had I taken in the curves of full breasts, or the hint of cleavage above the lacing of her vest.
She’d noticed my appraisal and quirked a brow. “You have a name, Lirien?”
Her composure unnerved me. I wanted to see her as a threat, a captor, but the way her gaze softened when she looked at me made it difficult to hold on to my anger. She was beautiful, yes, but it was more than that. She was steady, utterly unafraid of me.
“Rykr West … haven.” Idiot. I shouldn’t use that name right now. Damn breasts, distracting. “You?”
“Seren.” She leaned over to a squat table near the bedroll and poured water from a clay pitcher into a cup. “Drink this.”
I hesitated.
She rolled her eyes. “If I was going to kill you, I would have done it by now.”
Fair point.
I brought the cup to my lips, the cool relief of water welcome. Downing it in a few gulps, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
What the fuck?
Dark hair covered my forearm. I hurled the cup across the tent, where it landed with a dull thump against the canvas.
I shot up, only to realize I was completely naked. Swearing out of fury rather than modesty, I yanked the blanket around my waist, then glanced at my arms and legs.
The hair on my body had turned dark. All of it.
Seren watched me cautiously as she stood. If she thought I didn’t notice her gripping a dagger in the folds of her cloak, she was a fool.
“What in Nyxva did you do to me?” My voice cracked, betraying the fear I tried to suppress. This isn’t normal. This isn’t my body.
Before she could respond, the tent flapped open. A hulking man stepped inside and grabbed me by the shoulders, shoving me backward. He was young, but taller than me by several inches, which was saying something. And broad. An ox of a man with short, red hair.
“She saved your life,” he snapped, grey eyes flashing. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you the rules of the Dreadwood?”
Seren stepped between us, cutting him off with a hard look. “That’s enough. I don’t need your protection, Ciaran.” Her tone brooked no argument. “I made the decision to save him, and I’ll handle the consequences.”
