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The noisy splash of water behind me reminds me that he’s still here.
“Here,” he says, his voice gruff. He’s holding the shirt he was wearing out to me, his knuckles bruised and torn up from earlier.
Slowly I shift my gaze to his from the ground up. Even his calves are heavily muscled, and they’re dusted with light brown hair until I reach his thighs where, closer to the groin, years of riding has worn his skin baby smooth. His cock hangs heavy and long between his thighs and when it begins to respond to my scrutiny, my eyes jerk up along the defined ridges of his torso. As a testament to his warrior status, there are scars and nicks and burns scattered across his skin, as well as a large tattoo of a simple mountain lion across his left pectoral. The sandy brown hair that dusts his wide chest is the same color as his thick beard. He’s so tall that my head doesn’t even reach his massive shoulders. For a fraction of a second, I imagine what it would be like to skim my fingertips over such a masterpiece of human flesh and bone, and for him to welcome that touch. When my eyes finally meet his, a frisson of want slides down my spine.
The shirt gets pushed into my hand and my mouth opens to saythank you, but the words stall in my throat as he gathers up my wet hair and squeezes the water out. The brush of his calloused fingers along my shoulders turns the frisson into a full-fledged quiver.
While he pulls on his clothes, I stand there stupidly, watching him, not sure what’s more shocking, the intimacy of the gesture or the care it shows. Either way, it’s left me off-kilter.
The thick leather of his vest creaks as he pulls the buckles tight over his chest. “Put the shirt on or don’t, but we’re leaving.”
He advances on me and I scramble to get it on before I’m lifted into his arms once again. The wolf, Venna, goes first, creating as much panic on the way out as she did on the way in. She pays her audience no mind and when we step out into the early winter sunshine, she takes off into the trees.
I want to question Luka further about the wolf, but with my head resting on his shoulder and the heat of the hot springs still keeping the cold at bay, I don’t want to disturb this peace between us. Plus there are better things to concentrate on like the bulge of the bicep on his bare arm. I reach out and trace a vein that stands out against the muscle and skin. “You should never wear a shirt,” I announce dreamily, not caring if he knows I find him attractive.Why shouldn’t I take pleasure where I can in my last days?
His low chuckle resonates in my chest and my lids sink shut.
“Rina,” is whispered at my ear and I wake to unfamiliar surroundings. The light is dim and the air is fragrant with . . . horses. I straighten up in his arms, and there, in front of us, is Glory, her soft brown eyes filled with curiosity.
“Oh,” I breathe, squirming for Luka to put me down. The cold, hard-packed earth under my bare feet scarcely registers as he relents and I reach out to pat Glory’s forehead.
“Are they treating you well?” I ask as she lowers her head to snuffle at my hand. I show her my empty palm. “I’m sorry. If I had anything, I would give it to you.” I step closer and stroke her neck. “Do you like apples or carrots? I once knew a horse who loved potatoes, but I imagine you’re much too refined for such nonsense, aren’t you?”
I prattle on to her for a short while before the deve appears at my elbow with a small apple. Glory tries to take it from him, but he blocks her. “Don’t be grabby, beautiful girl,” he admonishes gently, handing the apple to me.
There’s something akin to fondness in his tone and Glory only has eyes for him as she delicately takes the apple from my palm. “I understand completely,” I whisper, unable to repress a soft giggle.
Without warning, I’m being lifted into his arms and Glory shifts in her stall, stamping her feet at the unexpected movement. “Come on, it’s too cold for you out here.”
“But –” I cut myself off, hoping if I don’t make a fuss, he’ll bring me back to visit again. I watch Glory over his shoulder until we exit out into the courtyard. “Will someone exercise her today?”
“I’m sure the stable master knows how to do his job.” He must not like how my shoulders sag because he huffs with annoyance. “I’ll mention it to him. Happy?”
“Yes. I know it’s a special kind of distress to be cooped up all the time,” I say, paying no heed to the people who stop and openly stare at us. “Is that Yvette?”
She is indeed standing on the stairs to the Great Hall, holding a small bundle, which turns out to be a woolen blanket. “Elsy is waiting upstairs,” she says to the deve, her smile faltering a bit when she sees the bite mark on my neck again, but her tone remains cheerful. “Rina, I barely recognize you without the layer of grime.”
The deve sweeps us past her before I can respond.
“Do you not want the blanket after all?” she calls after us. He only quickens his pace as I stare over at the wall of skulls. It’s not ghoulish at all now that I have some context.
As soon as his foot hits the first stair on the climb to my tower prison, my stomach bottoms out and all fuzzy thoughts disappear. I really don’t want to go back.
Two steps later, he says, “I need something from you.” The words surprise me enough that my impending doom flies from my mind.
“You do?”
He grimaces. “I do. There’s a letter.”
“A letter?”
“Yes, I need you to tell me what it says.” We come to the first landing.
“What? Why would you . . .”Is he admitting that he can’t . . . read?Shock vibrates all the way to my toes.How can he lead an entire realm of people and not be literate?And to lower himself to askmemust mean . . .what?
He mistakes my silence for defiance. “I’m not asking,” he says peevishly and it suddenly becomes clear that he took me to see the horse to gain my cooperation. Betrayal bubbles in my gut, but maybe I can use this to make the remainder of my days more bearable.
“Okay.”
