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“Entitled?” she asks. “So it’s an honor?”
“It is. Together we are stronger.”
She mulls that over before she says, “That actually sounds very comforting. I’ll have to look upon it with fresh eyes.”
Every time we interact, she surprises me. If I’m honest with myself, she’s absolutely nothing like I thought she would be. There doesn’t seem to be a haughty or judgmental bone in her bod–
“Is that a dog?” she whispers urgently, her arms stiffening around my neck.
At first I don’t know what she’s talking about, but then I see the wolf. “No, but you can stop strangling me. It’s only Venna.”
Rina doesn’t hear me. “It’s too big to be a dog.”
With surprising strength, she levers herself higher in my arms as Venna draws near. “Relax. She won’t hurt you. I raised her from a pup.”
Venna, always cautious, is now suspicious . . . if a wolf can be described in such a way. I pause on the trail. “Do you wish to give her a sniff, Venna? I don’t recommend it. She reeks.”
Rina freezes as Venna lifts her muzzle to scent her bare thigh. Giving a low whine, the wolf licks at the exposed skin.
“She likes you,” I announce, continuing our trek, but Rina doesn’t answer, only trembles with fear. Or maybe it’s with the cold. It’s hard to tell.
Venna goes on ahead and there are a few shrieks of surprise from the bathers in the pools. “That’s my girl,” I say with a smirk. Yes, today is definitely my day.
We go in and I ignore everyone to make my way to the furthest pool. “Out,” I order the woman and her two children, who beat a hasty retreat to avoid not only me, but also the wolf.
When we’re alone, I set Rina on her feet and Venna takes up a defensive position facing the only entrance to the space.
Unstrapping my leather vest, I toss it aside and pull my linen shirt over my head before I notice Rina’s attention is strung taut between the wolf and the hot water. “We don’t have all day, princess,” I say blandly.
“She truly won’t hurt us?” she asks, lifting her chin toward Venna.
“No one should ever trust a wild animal.”
Despite her exasperation with my answer, the allure of the warm water is too much for her to resist. She dips her toes in, then turns an excitement-filled expression my way as I unlace my boots.
Not the bruise on her jaw, not the gruesome bite mark on her neck, nor the limp, greasy hair hanging in clumps around her shoulders can detract from her beauty as that smile appears. She’s pure joy and wonder and I’m almost taken aback by how it kindles something inside of me, something that’s warm and heartening, or even grounding. What a morning.
Chapter 7
Rina
Ishiver, but for once, it’s not from the cold or fear or panic. The water is wonderfully warm. And it raises my spirits like nothing else . . . except maybe being handed a knife to take my revenge on a scum-licking attempted rapist. I wonder if my lack of sleep on top of last night’s trauma are starting to take their toll, because I’m light-headed and overwhelmed and . . . happy.
“You’re not just going to stand there, are you?” he asks, stepping down into the shin-deep pool as bare as the day he was born.
With his back to me, he wades into the deeper water, and I take the opportunity to soak up the sight of him. If he strikes an impressive figure fully clothed, he’s magnificent naked. From his broad shoulders to his tapered waist, the defined muscles shift under his skin, and further down, his backside is . . . I swallow hard. Unlike most men in D’heilar, there’s not an ounce of fat on him anywhere.
He lets out a groan as the water swallows up that delectable body. Turning, he looks me over, pausing on my hand which I’ve pressed to the scars that run down my left side.
“I’ve already seen them,” he informs me. “Along with the rest of you. You needn’t play at modesty.”
Vaguely, I nod. He’s right. And since I’m sure he has his pick of women, I can’t imagine my too-thin, scar-ravaged body would be of much interest to him.
Carefully pulling the grimy shirt over my injuries, I let it fall and step into the warm pool. I also let out a groan at the unadulterated bliss of it as I shuffle forward and sink down to submerge every inch of my aching body in the water, including my head. If only I didn’t need to breathe, I’d stay cocooned here forever.
I hold out for as long as I can, then resurface to suck in a huge breath, unable to repress the smile that promptly becomes a grimace. Cupping my very sore jaw, I locate him off to my left. “What’s it like?” I ask, watching as he pulls the leather thong from what’s left of the queue of his hair and throws it over my head to land near his pile of clothes. “To go through life not having to worry about attack?”
His fingers pause in their efforts to detangle his shoulder-length hair. “You don’t think I could be attacked?” The rumble of his low laugh tells me what he thinks of that statement.
