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“This will fit over the bandage.”

I pick it up by the neck. The shoulders would hang halfway down my arms, and there’s enough width for me twice.

I could fit Mel in here with me.

“Yours?”

“Yes. Keep your arm down when you put it on.”

I glance at his bare chest, then at the shirt again. He waits while I let it fall across my lap.

“Is the cloak yours too?”

“Yes.”

“You could’ve mentioned the clothes when I first woke up.”

“You couldn’t lift your hand.”

He’s got me there.

I remember trying, and warm fingers under mine. I spread the shirt across my knee with my good hand.

“What do I call you?”

He gets up and turns toward the hearth. Coarse hair thickens down his neck into the dark pelt along his spine. Pale fur runs from his shoulders down both flanks, disappearing beneath his trousers.

I’d like to know how far down it goes.

An old scar crosses his ribs on the left, a bare line through the pale fur, and nothing else on him is marked. Either he’s very good at fighting or nobody’s been stupid enough to try.

He eases onto a low stone beside the fire, one hand braced against it until he’s settled. For a few breaths he stays there, looking into the pot.

Claws, fangs, and an ass that’s wasted on a man who lives in a rock.

“Do you live here alone?”

“Yes.”

He gets up and fills a bowl from the pot, then brings it across to me.

Steam rises from broth with small pieces of meat in it. My stomach cramps at the smell. I take the bowl, resting it on my thighs because my right hand has started to shake.

He slides a wad of cloth beneath it so the hot base doesn’t touch my skin. What does he want?

“Slowly.”

I drink from the rim. The first mouthful hurts my scraped throat, but I take another as soon as I can.

He sits on the stone again while I eat. From there he can see both openings and my pallet. I keep the bowl close and look past his shoulder.

“Which one leads outside?”

His eyes go to the nearer passage and come back to me. “That one.”

I look where he looked. There’s the patch of daylight high on the wall, and nothing past the mouth but dark.

“How far to the river?”