“I’m fine,” she says, drawing back, only to brush against my wings. Gently, I use my wings to nudge her forward, closer to me.
But as she tries to resist, her cloak opens further and the sleeves of her dress slide back, revealing the source of the foul smell. I nearly gasp at the sight of her chafed wrists, covered in pockets of oozing yellow pus.
I grasp her left hand, pulling her wrist close. When she tries to yank her hand away, I growl and give her a stern look.
Doesn’t she realize I’m trying to help her?
For a moment, I consider glamouring her into a state of calm. Then I quickly decide against it. Placing an enchantment of any kind on my fated mate doesn’t feel right. It would be too easy to grow accustomed to using such glamours on her, just to keep her compliant and calm in my presence.
If she were constantly under an enchantment, how would she ever truly get to know me? How would she ever truly learn to trust me?
No, I decide. I cannot take the easy way out. I must strive for patience and do whatever I can to earn her trust.
“I am sorry I growled at you just now, my dearest,” I say, and the apology feels strange on my tongue. “Please don’t be frightened. I swear to you that I will never hurt you.”
I try to recall when I last apologized to anyone, and I come up empty. But it’s not as though I interact with many people. I rarely speak with anyone beyond the Winter King and Commander Ashvale. Instead, I keep to myself. The Lord of Nothing needs no one.
Except… I need Gwen.
And I want her.
More than anything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life.
“Do you have medicinal herbs or healing balms in your rucksack?” she asks softly. “If so, I can apply them myself.”
“Not quite.”
Before she can question me further, I hover my free hand above her wrist and summon winter magic. Blue light gathers and emanates from my palm, and within moments, the wounds covering her left wrist are no more. Her skin is perfectly smooth with no hint of a scar.
She gasps and leans closer. “How-how did you do that?”
“Winter magic, my dearest.”
Still holding her left hand, I reach down and gently trail my fingers over her smooth, freshly healed skin.
“Will you allow me to heal your other wrist now?” I ask. “Or must I growl at you again?” A smile tugs at my lips, and it’s such an odd sensation that I almost don’t recognize it. When was the last time I smiled? I honestly don’t know.
Though I haven’t known Gwen for long, it would seem she’s already having a profound effect on me. To think that the Lord of Nothing not only issued an apology but also smiled all in the same day? Truly shocking.
“Yes,” she finally says, offering me her other wrist. “And thank you. Truly. As I stood on the auction platform, I realized I had a fever, and then I wondered if I might die.”
My chest tightens at her confession. How terrified she must have been standing on the auction platform, sweltering with a dangerously high fever, her wounded wrists bound tightly behind her back as strangers bid on her.
Strangers like me.
I find myself longing to comfort her… yet I am not certain how I might go about it. Should I try to show her gentleness? Should I offer her a hug? I would happily hold her in my arms again, and I’m glad it’s the only way we’ll be able to resume our travels to Ellonnar. Unless we go on foot. But that would take almost a full day. No, we will fly. And I will hold her again.
My sweet human mate.
My dearest.
I carefully reach for her right hand and entwine my fingers with hers. Gods, her hands are so tiny and delicate. Well, everything about her is tiny and delicate. She is so small. So… human. I will do whatever I must to keep her safe. I will not allow harm to come to her ever again.
I direct the blue light onto her wounded wrist, turning her arm gently as I strive to bathe the injury in healing rays of winter magic. Relief fills me as I watch her final wounds heal. A quick glance at her face shows her eyes are brighter, and I’m pleased that she appears more alert. As I touch her skin, I realize the fever has left her body.
She is fully healed. Thank the gods.
I don’t release her hand. Instead, I cup it between my hands as I scoot closer to her on the blanket.
