“Good. Keep them warm. Don’t rub them. People always want to rub them.”
Keith’s gaze snapped to my hands. “You didn’t say they hurt that much.”
“I didn’t want to be dramatic.”
All four men looked at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t do that.”
Luck leaned forward. “Slayer, respectfully, you have four boyfriends. Dramatic is kind of what you signed up for.”
Sofia pointed at him. “Accurate.”
I groaned.
Keith took one of my hands gently after Sofia released it and tucked it between both of his. “No more hiding injuries.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” I said, glancing at the scar on his arm.
His mouth tilted. “Fair.”
Sofia paused in front of Luck. Her expression changed. The humor dropped out so fast that my stomach tightened. “Take off your boot.”
Luck blinked. “What?”
“Your boot,” she repeated, more firmly. “Now.”
He tried to laugh. “Surely, it’s fine.”
“Boot.”
Mad’s voice sharpened. “Luck.”
The smile slid off Luck’s face. He sighed and bent forward, tugging his boot off with more effort than it should have taken. His sock followed.
The second his foot was bare, I leaned forward.
It was bright red. But also too pale near his toes.
Sofia crouched in front of him, inspecting his foot closely. “There it is.”
“What?” I asked.
“Early-stage frostbite,” she said, tapping with her gloved hand lightly near his big toe. “See the discoloration? Pale and slightly waxy here, redness around the affected area. You waited too long to say something.”
Luck frowned. “I didn’t even feel it.”
“That’s usually the case,” she replied, standing abruptly. “Numbness is not your friend. Numbness is your body losing communication.”
Mad’s jaw clenched. “How bad?”
“We caught it early.” Sofia pointed at Luck. “Don’t move.”
Luck stared after her as she walked away. “I’m starting to feel like I did something wrong.”
Oxi patted his shoulder. “It’s the cold’s fault.”
Sofia returned with a small kit of gauze, a second thermos, a folded towel, and what looked like some kind of medicinal cream. “This is going to hurt,” she said plainly.