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I shook my head. "There is nowein this."
But as we reached the top of the stairs, I ordered one of the guards to fashion a litter box as well as to bring up some raw meat.
"And milk," Alahna added.
"And milk," I sighed, giving my guard an apologetic grin. This wasn't a job for a warrior.
"Here, hold him." Before I had a chance to protest, Alahna put the grover, Furbo, in my arms.
She moved to our bed and curiously I watched her take a pillowcase off a pillow and empty one of my boxes that held an assortment of broken blades. Furbo made some keening sounds and when I looked down, I conceded that he did look cute.
"Here, put him in there carefully," she said, holding out the box, which she had lined with the pillowcase.
Furbo would have none of that, though. He scrambled from my arms straight back into Alahna's, snuggling against her chest, and I commiserated with him fully. Had I been able to, I would have crawled to the same spot. Soft and warm.
"Here, why don't you sit down?" I coaxed Alahna into a chair before I moved to the bathroom to wet a towel and grab a bowl to at least clean her scratches until the healer arrived.
"Oh thank you," she cried and pulled the towel from my hand before I could react, gently tapping it against Furbo's injured paw.
"That was for your wounds," I grumbled, unable to keep the scolding tone from my voice. So far, the grover had amused me, but when it came to taking care of Alahna, I would be damned if she came second.
Since she had already sullied the towel with Furbo's blood, I sighed in disapproval and walked back into the bathroom to repeat the process all over.
This time I made sure to keep a firm grip on the towel and bowl as I knelt by her side, prying one of her arms free from Furbo. I gently began to dab her scratched flesh.
"The drycking bush got you good," I cursed. "Your horse is gonna be in a lot of trouble."
She giggled, and I stilled. It was the best sound I had ever heard. The hand I was tending to pulled up and cupped my cheek. "You are not such a scary warlord."
I sucked in a breath, not because her words wounded my pride, they did, but because her gesture raised all kinds of different emotions inside me. I couldn't remember the last time somebody had touched me like this—with a gesture of affection and comfort.
I caught her hand and kissed it. "Careful kallini, or I will throw you on that bed and ravish you."
"You're a good man," she said, not breaking eye contact, and I swallowed.
Unfortunately, a knock on the door distracted me, because otherwise I would have made good on my earlier threat and thrown her on that bed to fuck her senseless.
The healer, Aine, entered, and I introduced her to Alahna.
"I'm so glad you're here. I think he has something stuck—"
"Oh nyck," I interrupted. "I want you to look at her scratches first. She fell into a thorn bush."
"Of course, Warlord." Aine moved over to Alahna and before the obstinate kallini could push her pet at the healer, I grabbed Furbo from her hands.
"These don't look too bad," Aine said, checking on Alahna's cuts, gently wiping them clean with the towel and water I brought in earlier before putting a salve from her basket on it.
"Only your arms?" she asked when she was done.
Alahna's face reddened. "No, there is one…" she gave me a surreptitious glance.
"I saw all of you last night, and this morning," I reminded her.
With her face turning even redder, she twisted and pulled at the fabric by her breast, which I hadn't noticed was ripped as well.
Aine pulled the fabric around Alahna's breast down to expose an ugly red scratch marring her tender flesh.
"I'm going to kill that horse of yours," I exploded. Furbo made a meowling sound.
