Page 20 of Queen of War and Ruin

“Go ahead,” he says. “Let me know when you’re under the covers, and I’ll blow out the light.”

My hands tremble as I pull the shirt over my head and spread it out on the railing. Something twists in my core as I tug off the muddy pants, a deep ache I have no idea how to resolve. I unbuckle Zarek’s dagger from my thigh and hang it next to my pants, then glance down at my body. I’m still wearing a thin silk shirt and shorts, but those will dry quickly, especially the way my body is suddenly radiating heat.

I grab a towel, run it over my face and hair, and then wrap it around my body. As I tuck it around my rib cage, I remember the little tin I took from Agnes. I dig through the pockets of my cloak until I pull it out.

“Zarek,” I say.

He turns around, then looks away like I just slapped him. He clears his throat.

“You’re not under the covers,” he says.

“Oh, stop it,” I snap. “I’m going to wrap your ribs.”

“They’re fine,” he replies, without looking at me.

“They’re not fine.”

I close the space between us, until I can feel the heat rising off his body. Rain hammers on the roof just above us.

“I don’t think they’re actually broken,” he says. “I think they were just⁠—”

I put my hand on his chest, and his words end in a gasp.

“Please,” I say.

Zarek takes a step back. His head almost brushes the rafters. And then, slowly, he pulls his shirt over his head.

Chapter 11

Zarek

CAN’T FIGHT

Isuck in a breath as Lilias begins to unwind the cloth Agnes wrapped around my chest before we left the little valley sheltering the remains of Dungal. Agnes had clucked over me like a mother hen, just like she used to when I was a kid.

“You always were a fast healer,” she said. “Just replace this every few days for a week, and you’ll be good as new.”

I wanted to say I didn’t think I’d ever been good, but I managed to bite my tongue. Agnes and the prince didn’t have any reason to help me get Lilias back to her brother, and then on to Ethiria to find allies for Marion. Still, they’d given us food, supplies, and their two fastest horses. If that meant I should act civilized while Agnes bandaged me up, well, that was a small price to pay.

And whatever she’d done, it worked. I felt almost normal as we dragged ourselves across Vsenrog.

“Oh!” Lilias gasps as the bandage falls to the ground.

My cock takes an immediate interest in that whisper of breath over her lips. I grit my teeth and try to ignore the dull throb between my legs as Lilias frowns at the fading bruise across my rib cage and the ugly scars beneath.

“That’s nothing,” I say. “You should have seen the other guys.”

I smile, but Lilias frowns, and I decide not to mention that I was tied to a chair when this happened and the worst the other guys got were bloody knuckles. Lilias opens a tin of something, then rubs her fingers across my chest.

My pulse races. Whatever is in that tin has a vaguely floral scent that probably shouldn’t be erotic but is doing nothing to dull the heat and pressure between my legs. It’s bad enough that Lilias has to see my scars, but this is fucking torture. I close my eyes.

“W-Where did you get that?” I stammer as Lilias spreads ointment over my chest.

“From Agnes,” she replies. “It’s not too far off from my recipe, but with less beeswax. Of course, she doesn’t have to worry about quite as much hair when she’s using it on humans.”

I make a sound that can hopefully be taken as agreement, then try to shift my hips back before she can notice what she’s doing to my idiotic body. It seems to take her a very long time to rub that floral goo across my chest. Part of me hopes she’ll never stop.

Fuck. I’m never going to get to sleep now.