Page 20 of The Piper's Pursuit

“As if it was starving. Maybe that’s why it was so aggressive. But why would it be starving? There are plenty of hares and squirrels around these woods and fields.”

“And rats.” Hundreds and hundreds of rats. “But the rats all seem to be in town.”

“You live in a strange place, Katerina Grymmelin.”

“My name is not Grymmelin.” Katerina’s body tensed at hearing Hennek’s surname applied to her.

“Oh, yes. Forgive me.” He looked chagrined.

“My name is Katerina Ludken. And I thank you for... not letting the wolf... that is...” Why was it so difficult to say, “Thank you for saving my life”? All the breath had left her lungs. She just couldn’t.

Finally she said, “Thank you for helping me kill the wolf.” There. If he turned out to be a wolf himself, she wouldn’t hate herself for thanking him, as hehadhelped her kill it.

Steffan turned all his attention on her and even leaned toward her, over the wolf’s body. “You are welcome for me stepping in front of the wolf to protect you.”

“And you are welcome for me keeping the wolf from gnawing off your arm by stabbing it with my crossbow bolt.” She glared, daring him to argue with her.

“You aren’t going to acknowledge that I sacrificed myself to save you, are you?” He widened his eyes and let his mouth hang open.

She clenched her teeth. She couldn’t discern if he was making a jest or in earnest, but either way, he was throwing it up at her, and it was obnoxious.

His lips curved only the tiniest bit, and his eyes were laughing. “You know, I could tell your stepfather that I killed the beast. Then he—”

“Then he what?”

“Well, he might tell me I can marry you.”

If she’d ever wished she could shoot crossbow bolts from her eyes, it was now. “I will never marry you, and there isn’t a priest in Hamlin who would force me.”

“Never?” He laid his right hand, the uninjured one, against his heart. “You wound me.”

Kat huffed. He was so irritating. “I didn’t wound you, but you are wounded, so let us get back before you bleed out.”

Her hands were starting to shake, a late reaction to the terror of the beast attacking them as they fought for their lives. But she had no intention of letting Steffan see her hands shaking or any other indication that she felt any effects from the attack, so she started down the path at a faster pace than when they’d walked up.

Now that Steffan was behind her and couldn’t see her face, she let herself remember him jumping in front of her as the beast leapt at her. Her heart beat faster just thinking about it. Probably only because she was surprised the irritating man would do something so selfless. But that was not true, and she knew it. It was more because she’d longed for, even needed someone to protect her so many times in the past, but no one ever had. Instead, when men had tried to harm them, she’d been the only one to protect her mother and herself. And it sent such a strong feeling through her—she wasn’t sure what to call it—to have someone protect her, even if it was Steffan.

She should not think of it anymore.

But her conscience nudged her that she had actually treated him ungraciously and had not thanked him as she should have for saving her.

Perhaps later, after his wound had been treated, she would. But how could she thank him without being overwhelmed by that strange feeling again? And he was so arrogant, he would probably get the wrong impression of her and would think she had romantic intentions toward him.

Her thoughts were warring inside her when Steffan said, “I thank you, Katerina, for stabbing that animal with your arrow.”

This was her opportunity. She said quickly, “And thank you for stepping in front of him when he pounced.”

She glanced over her shoulder. As she suspected, he was grinning on one side of his mouth, one brow lifting in a jocular expression.

She clamped her lips closed. She would not give him the satisfaction of admitting he had saved her life. She had saved herself too many times, and she’d long prided herself on never giving in to what men wanted. She wasn’t about to start giving in to this one.

“Why will you not say it?”

“Because we helped each other. We both killed the beast. And if you don’t be quiet, I may leave you here to bleed to death.”

“It’s not bleeding that much.” His voice was cheerful, without the least bit of anger or resentment at her refusal to give him what he wanted. “Is your healer any good? I have a recipe for a wound remedy. It’s said to heal wounds without fail, a curative against any putridness or fever. Perhaps your healer could make some of it.”

“I have heard of this remedy. The maker of it was accused of witchcraft.”