“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He glared down at her as he carried her back to the fire. “I’m helping you. Let me do it.”
“You’re helping me by keeping me from washing the blood out of my clothes?”
He sat down, his back to a fallen log, only feet from the fire, his arms clamped tightly around her. “I’m not going to let you walk around naked at night in the Black Woods only hours after we were attacked. It’s near freezing and you want to go splash around in the stream? You’re not thinking straight.”
“And you are?”
“At the moment, I’m unsure,” he murmured, shifting her across his lap. “But I know I’m not going to let you wander the woods right now, so settle in.”
He leaned over to grab the blanket she’d dropped on the ground. When he eased his hold on her, she tried to roll out of his lap, but he pulled her back, wrapping the wool around her body.
“Casrian… please. You don’t need to do this. I’m?—”
“Fine?” He gave a harsh laugh. “You’re not fucking fine. I told you I’d look for signs that you were losing it. Don’t make me get out the holy water.”
“Is there enough of it to wash my jacket?”
“I’ve seen this before,” he said in an annoyingly even voice, even as he wrestled with her. “It happens on hunts often enough even with soldiers who have been trained to resist it. These places fuck with your head. Everyone has a breaking point, and this apparently was yours. It’s not an easy thing to take a life, even if the alternative is your own death. You will get through this. I’ll make sure you do.”
“I’m not at my breaking point. I don’t even have a breaking point.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really, you big oaf. If I had a breaking point, I’d have reached it a long time ago. Let me go.”
“No.”
“You can’t just hold me all night.”
“You’ve fallen asleep in my arms the last several nights. What’s the difference now?”
She felt heat creep up her neck. “I only did that because it was cold.”
“It’s still cold, Rowan. You’re not even wearing a fucking shirt.”
“I’m wearing an undershirt,” she snapped. “You’re the one who likes to prance around half-naked.”
“I don’t prance.”
She jerked her arm free and he caught it, pinning it to her side.
“I could tie you up,” he said. “If you’d rather I do that, I can. You’re not going anywhere tonight. If you still want to wash your clothes in the morning when the witch is weakest, you can do it then.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not going to let you tie me up.”
“Well, then…”
He settled back, repositioning his arms so one lay across her hips and the other supported her back. He tried to press her head against his chest like she was a fucking toddler, and she pulled away to glare up at him.
He glared back. He looked so stubborn with that hard jawline, his eyes blazing with determination. Was he gritting his teeth?
“Stop wriggling around like that,” he said stiffly.
“Just let me go.” She shifted her hip trying to get comfortable, but it was like lying on a boulder. The other nights she’d been sitting on the ground and had only leaned up against his warmth. She hadn’t been on his lap.
“You need to stop.”
