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She didn't reply straightaway, but even if he was too tired to tap his secondary power to judge her emotions, something told him to wait and see what she said.
ChapterFour
Nora had fully expected to hate the green-eyed, brown-haired fae witch male, given how he'd talked to her earlier and threatened her.
What she hadn't anticipated was him wanting to heal her bruised arm in his current weak state or apologizing to her for his behavior without Yesenia forcing him.
Although River sharing how it'd been vampires who'd tortured him almost explained his animosity and behavior toward her.
And now he wanted to start over, as if they'd just become acquainted.
She hesitated a beat as she studied his bruised yet pale face. She would have to go through the claiming with him at some point. And Nora had a feeling that how she answered and treated him going forward would determine a lot about how that would go.
In other words, it was best not to anger him if possible. In her experience, if a male was in a better mood, they were less harsh and demanding. Well, except in the case of Ambrose's father. But despite just meeting this Dr. River Vale, Nora didn't think he was like that cretin at all.
Clearing her throat, she did her best to stand tall—even though she suspected the fae witch male would tower over her, if he was upright—and replied, "I would like to get along for Yesenia's sake. But your deeds going forward will be a better apology than a handful of words."
A slow smile broke out on River's face and the sight of a dimple in one cheek and his even, straight teeth did something to her insides she didn't want to think about. Even still half-bruised and scarred, he was entirely too handsome.
For a fae witch, at any rate.
His voice sounded stronger than earlier when he replied, "I like how you think, Nora. And I'll do my best. Although it's true that doctors make the absolute shittiest patients, so I can't promise I won't snap or bark at you."
A knock on the door forestalled any reply. Once the maid placed the fae witch restorative drink next to the bedside table, she left. Nora knew River would need assistance sitting up, and she mentally berated herself for not asking Sarah to help so she could remain out of the reach of the fae witch's hands.
You can do this. You've touched him before and are going to have to do it again to change his bandages. And he's too weak to hold you down or force himself on you.All true, but her experience with males still made her hesitate.
Although as she catalogued the injuries she could see, the inner healer inside her was stronger than her fear and she moved to the side of the bed. "Let's get you upright."
She leaned down and reached for the pillows, her bosom unintentionally brushing against his arm. She swore she heard him suck in a breath, but she tried to ignore it. Although as she rearranged the pillows, she felt the heat of his breath on her neck and she froze.
Part of her liked it, that same, small part wanting to feel his lips press against her skin. However, a larger part of her linked the heat to fifty-year-old memories she wanted to forget.
The taunting, the promises of pain, the words berating her and making her feel small and humiliated.
You're such a bloody cold, fat wench. You're not worth the money I paid for you.
Scream harder for me, whore. Keep quiet and I'll break your ankle to get me hard enough to fuck you.
Struggle against the chains more or I'll choke you, again and again, until you can't even beg me to stop.
Let's see if you can bleed more than the last time.
Even though her father had sold her womb to four males, it was Ambrose's father—Rowland—who had been the worst. The one who'd haunted her nightmares for years, and still occasionally returned.
His face still made her scream in her dreams.
"Nora?"
At the sound of River's voice, she jumped back and helped him sit up, careful that only her hands touched him and nothing else. Then she reached for the glass and held it to his lips. "Drink this first."
His gaze held hers as he swallowed slowly. The green of his eyes reminded her of grass in the spring, when there was plenty of rain to make it alive and vibrant.
And at the hints of playfulness she saw there, she wondered what River Vale was like when healthy. Probably alive and vibrant himself, able to charm anyone he wished.
Her cheeks heated the longer she stared at him, but thankfully River soon finished his drink and she could turn to place the glass back on the side table. "I should change your bandages now. Whilst you may be out of the worst danger, you're far from healthy, Dr. Vale."
"River. Please, call me River. We're family of a sort, aren't we?"
