Another groan slipped out of me. I weakly stroked Valor’s head. “Fine. I’m getting up.” He backed away as I shoved aside my blanket and sat upright. Feeling something sticking to my hands, I looked down. Grains of dirt dusted my palms.
I swiped one palm against the other, brushing away the dirt. Achy from yesterday’s battle, I gingerly stood. The movement pulled slightly on the gouges that spanned my abdomen. More slashed across my chest and along my arms. But as I took stock of myself, I noticed that they were all healing well.Reallywell, in fact.
Valor butted my hand, demanding more strokes.
“Damn, you’re bossy.” I petted him, whispering compliments as I often did, until he eventually decided he’d had enough attention and padded out of the room.
Letting the usual sounds of the stables relax me, I delved into my sack and pulled out my typical outfit—tunic, breeches, and undergarments. I had more clothes now, since I’d collected extra garments as the days went on. All were black, aside for my ivory breast bands and the white slips I wore for bed.
With the bundle of fresh clothes tucked under my arm, I grabbed my little hygiene pack and peeked through the doorway. Nobody was in the aisle, and I didn’t hear anyone pottering around. Wearing only my slip, I quickly headed to the feed room where I stripped, took care of business, brushed my hair, and then dressed.
Once done, I returned to the tack room and dumped my hygiene pack back in the sack. As for the dirty clothes … I had a separate sack for those. I stashed them quickly, stepped into my boots,cleared all my stuff away as I usually did, and then exited the space.
Striding along the aisle, I smiled at the steed whose head was poking through his window—the same steed Talon rode. “Morning, Xanthos.” I’d learned the names of most of the horses and dogs at this point. “You’re a beauty, aren’t you?”
He let out a little snort.
I paused at his stable, tutting. “Don’t be bashful. We both know it’s true.”
He blew air at me through his nostrils—something I knew was a gesture of affection. An affection I’d only won because I regularly fed him apples that I swiped from the food hall. Something that was our little secret.
I rubbed at his neck. “I’ll bring you some apples later. But remember, you can’t tell anyone.” Catching movement inthe corner of my eye, I looked to see none other than Talon fast approaching.
My pulse skittered—always did around him. I stepped away from the stall, which earned me an annoyed grunt from Xanthos. “Good morning.”
Wearing his usual glare, Talon stalked toward me with that lupine grace of his. And then he was right there in my space, his eyes intent on mine. I almost jerked back, unused to him being so close. He gripped my jaw and turned my head, his gaze dipping to the bite on my cheek.
Ignoring how his touch made my pulse speed up, I licked my lips. “As you can see, there’s no black discoloration in the veins around the bite that would indicate an infection.” Theichorhad to be responsible for that. “I’m fine.”
He released my face and began edging forwards, forcing me to inch back.
“W-what are you doing?” I asked, even as I kept backpedaling.
He herded me into the tack room and lifted the bottom of my tunic.
With a low squeak, I yanked it down. “What the hell?”
Giving me a bored look, he reached for it again.
I dodged his hand. “I repeat, what the hell?” I was wearing my breast band, so there wasn’t much for him to see, but I wasn’t one for flashing bare skin for no apparent reason.
Regarding me like I was being dramatic—dramatic—he indicated for me to raise my tunic. And then realization dawned: He wanted to check my other injuries.
“I’m not bitten anywhere else,” I said. “I have claw marks, but that’s all.”
His brows inched up slightly in a,Yeah, I’m going to need to see that for myselfgesture.
“I’m not infected. If I were, I’d be craving blood by now.”
He only stared at me, his expression implacable. There was a gleam of something in that bored gaze. A dare.
I raised my chin. “You know what? Fine. You want to look, have at it.” I didn’t lift my tunic, though. I whipped it off entirely.
He went still, surprised, his gaze lowering to my upper body. There was some satisfaction in taking him off-guard. But my inner smile faded as heat bled into those night-sky orbs. It wasIwho then stilled.
He didn’t avert his gaze or turn away as I’d expected. No. He blatantly looked his fill, lazily and brazenly taking in every little detail with a meticulous concentration that made my stomach twist sharply.
Uh-oh.
