“You have to swear not to run again, Rykr, even though you came back and helped me. At this rate, I’m never going to repay you.”
“Believe it or not, I’m not keeping score. But by my count, you saved me from execution and killed the skinwraith. If my friends in the Regulation ever hear about this, they’ll never let me live it down.”
I capped the jar, offering him a wry look. “Don’t get used to it. If you don’t start pulling your weight around here, I’ll have to return you back to where I found you.”
“Promise?” The corners of his mouth tipped up with amusement. He drew a slow breath through his nose, then sat as I finished putting honey on his wrists. “That feels surprisingly good.”
“It’s my mother’s secret recipe. Secret because it’s magic and she doesn’t share all the spells she knows. Which, given my record with you, is probably for the best. How are you feeling this morning?”
He raked his fingers through his hair, then examined his wrists, clearly relieved to be free of the irons. “Exhausted. And cold. My bath outside last night didn’t help.”
I glanced back at the bedroll, which had the only bedding in the tent. Before I could talk myself out of it, I reached for Rykr’s hand, lifted his pillow, then tugged him back toward the bedroll. A few sleeping hours remained, and I couldn’t live with myself if I let him shiver in front of the stove.
Rykr hesitated. “What are you doing?”
I threw him a smile. “Don’t worry, Lirien, I have no intention of deflowering you. But you might be warmer on the bedroll beside me, where there’s warmth from my body, sheets, and a pelt. Plus, it’s more comfortable.”
In the dim light of the stove, his lips twitched. “Thank goodness. If there’s one thing I’ve tried to do in life, it’s guard my innocence.”
I laughed softly. “I’m sure you’re a paragon of chastity.”
“Obviously.” He stretched out beside me, his voice turning lower. “Though if you change your mind about deflowering me, just let me know.”
The casual banter shouldn’t have made my stomach twist with heat, but it did. He made a joke feel like a dare.
Despite my intentions, a familiar feeling of anticipation crept through me at his nearness as I crawled into bed. Facing away, as though he could see the hint of desire igniting within me, I covered us both with the bedsheets, then the blanket. I backed up closer to him.
His clothes were wet and ice cold.
“You’re never going to warm up like that.” I groped in the darkness for my trunk. I’d washed his bloodstained clothes earlier, leaving them to dry.
I handed the clean ones to him. “Change. And take the shirt off—leave it by the stove. It’ll dry better there.”
A soft chuckle left him. “How did you know I love it when a woman tells me what to do in bed?”
“Lucky guess.” I crossed my arms, biting back a smile. “Hurry up before you freeze. I don’t want a half-dead man sharing my bedroll.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be alive enough to be annoying.”
“I noticed.” I turned away, giving him privacy. “Maybe I should leave the irons on next time, just to keep things quieter.” Asshole. I smiled to myself as he stood. “Why’d you take a bath with your clothes on?”
He cleared his throat, the sound of his trousers falling. I tried not to picture him, mostly failing. “At first, it was to use the stream to throw them off my scent.”
Right. Because his plan had been to escape. “And after you decided not to run?”
He chuckled. “Hard to strip when you’re chained up like a criminal.”
His voice was light, teasing, but the reminder stung.
Oh no.
“I didn’t think of that,” I admitted, voice quieter. “I shouldn’t have?—”
“You didn’t know I was going to try to betray you, or bathe. Next time, you’ll think before chaining up a perfectly innocent man.” He flashed me a grin as he reclined beside me, one that was impossible to be angry at, even if I wanted to be.
“Why did you come back?”
One arm stretched then bent, his hand settling behind his head. “Because I realized it wasn’t worth risking both our lives without a halfway decent plan. Even if your people murdered my … king.”
