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“You need to drink. If only we had willow bark, or elm.” He glanced around us, looking at the trees. “But I don’t want to leave you here alone,” I heard him mutter.
He walked a little ways away, inspecting the trees around us.
I watched for a minute, then my eyes began to close.
It had been too much. My poor body was rebelling against me, pushed too far by the events of the day and the night. My head swam. I felt myself starting to shake.
The stars in the sky were now everywhere. In the trees. Over the fire. Across Draven’s face. I closed my eyes but the stars did not disappear.
I wanted to tell Draven about the sound Whitehorn and I had heard. Wanted to ask for a cup of cold water. Wanted to ask for another blanket.
But darkness was falling. Slowly, the stars disappeared one by one.
CHAPTER 18
When I awoke, I wasin my tent, but I was not alone.
There were arms wrapped around me. I could feel them, tight and heavy. My cheek was pressing against something rough and hard.
My eyes shot open.
My face was against Draven's chest. My head rested on one of his arms. It furled under me, hand pressed lightly against my back, while his other arm was slung over the swell of my hips.
I could feel the rise and fall of his chest, feel the hardness of his muscles, the taut planes of his chest pressing against the soft curves of my body.
I lay there, my heart beating fast, torn between the urge to run as quickly as I could and the desire to stay here, in this unexpected embrace.
I fought against the urge to run and tried to relax my breathing. I could not remember ever being held like this before. There was a comfort to it I had not expected. A sense of relief and safety.
Which was utterly ironic considering who and what this man really was.
Even so, Draven had saved me. Helped me with Florian. Stopped Whitehorn from taking me.
Yes, he had done so to serve his own interests. A corpse couldn’t get the king what he wanted. But ultimately, I felt safer as his prisoner than Whitehorn’s.
Draven had said I had a fever. He had cared for me, and put blankets over me. Even now, I slept in his arms because he had been trying to stop my shaking and keep me warm. I shifted and realized I was soaked through with sweat, my tunic sticking uncomfortably to my skin. Yet he hadn’t shied away, even while I’d oozed buckets of sweat and who knew what else all over him. I wrinkled my nose in embarrassment.
