We finally reach my door, and he pushes it open with his shoulder, carrying me inside without asking permission. He sets me down on the edge of my bed with surprising gentleness, and I immediately try to scoot away from him.
“Stay still,” he orders.
“I’m fine,” I snap back, but the words sound weak even to my own ears. “I can heal myself.”
I press my hands to my feet, reaching for my healing magic. The familiar warmth should flow through my palms, knitting torn flesh and soothing pain, but nothing happens. My magic sputters weakly, barely a flicker, before dying completely. The exhaustion from whatever happened tonight has drained me completely.
“It’s not working,” I mutter, frustration making my voice gruff.
“Because you’re exhausted.” Seth disappears into my bathroom and comes back with a dampened cloth. “Let me—”
“No.” I pull my feet back protectively. “I’ll go to the healers’ wing—”
“And explain to them why you were roaming outside at night?” His eyebrow arches as he grills me. “How you ended up with cuts all over your feet? What you were doing wandering through the forest in your nightdress?”
My mouth opens, then closes. He’s right. Going to another healer means questions I can’t answer, and whispers will spread through the palace by morning. The prospect of that humiliation makes my cheeks burn.
“That’s what I thought.” He kneels in front of me, reaching for my foot. “Now stop being difficult.”
I want to argue, to push him away, but I’m too tired, and he has made a good point. I let him capture my ankle in his large hand, hating how even that simple touch sends heat racing up my leg. My wolf stirs eagerly at the contact, and I want to scream at her to stop it.
Seth works in silence, his touch surprisingly gentle as he cleans the cuts and scrapes covering my soles. Each brush of the cloth stings, but I bite my tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me complain. His fingers are warm and steady, and I hate how safe they make me feel.
“This is going to hurt,” he warns before pressing the cloth against a particularly deep gash.
I hiss through my teeth, my hands fisting in the blanket beneath me. “I’m fine.”
“You keep saying that.” He doesn’t look up from his work, his jaw tight with concentration. “I’m starting to think you don’t know what ‘fine’ actually means.”
“And I’m starting to think you don’t understand the words ‘leave me alone.’”
His mouth twitches—not quite a smile, but close. It vanishes almost immediately as he reaches for the bandages I keep in my bedside drawer. His movements are too sure, like he knows exactly where everything is.
“Have you been snooping in my room?” I question him suspiciously.
“No.” He starts wrapping my foot with practiced efficiency. “But all the healer quarters are laid out the same way. Medical supplies are always in the same drawer.”
That makes sense, but it doesn’t explain why he’s being so careful, so thorough. His hands move with a gentleness that contradicts everything I know about Seth Rowan—the man who hurled cruel words at me like weapons, who made me feel small and worthless.
“There.” He ties off the bandage and moves to my other foot, repeating the process. “They should heal in a few hours, once you’ve rested.”
I pull my foot back the moment he’s done, tucking both legs under me despite the protest from my injuries. “You should go now.”
He sits back on his heels, still kneeling in front of me, his expression unreadable. “We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly very aware of how thin and damp my nightdress is. “There’s nothing to say.”
“Selene—”
“I said, ‘go.’” The words come out flat and final, with no room for negotiation. “Please, just leave.”
Instead, he stands and moves to the small table where a bottle of wine sits—a gift from Zane, still unopened. My chest tightens as Seth picks it up, examining the label with deliberate slowness.
“Put thatdown,” I demand.
He ignores me, opens the bottle, and finds two glasses. He pours a generous amount into each. “You look like you could use a drink.”
“That was from Zane. We were supposed to drink it together.”
