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The first thing we do is get as far from the Death House as we possibly can. I ride in Zane’s arms. He’d been too worried that I’d fall off to let me on the back of the horse, and the damn protective fae was probably right. I’m exhausted. Throughout the ride, I drift in and out of sleep. And despite the fact that I no doubt smell, he holds me close, like I’m something precious and delicate.
It isn’t until the sun is setting that the horses slow and we move off the road to set up camp. Forrest is there in an instant, reaching up to take me off the horse, and Zane holds me a little closer before reluctantly letting me go. Only, Forrest doesn’t set me down. He carries me in his arms like a child. Like I weigh nothing at all and stares down at me in the strangest way.
“What?” I ask, feeling nervous.
“Nothing. You’re just beautiful.” And the big fae sounds so sincere that I don’t know what to say.
“That’s what I’m told, that I never look better than when I’m dirty and beaten.”
He frowns and the scar on his face dances. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” I tell him, and some of the tension eases from his face. “I just want to feel clean again.”
Cobar pops up near us. “There’s a river right near camp.”
“A river?” It sounds cold and miserable, but I’d give anything not to be covered in dirt. “That could work. Anyone have something I can wear?”
“I do,” Sulien says, kneeling next to his pack, he pulls out a few articles of clothes and hands it to me. I take it, and then he turns to the others. “We have to set up camp.”
No one moves.
“You can put me down,” I say. “Seriously, I’m okay.”
Forrest’s arms tighten around me. “Just show me where you want to go.”
I sigh. The big lug isn’t going to listen. “The river.”
He starts walking, and I’m kind of amazed by how strong he is. Yes, the fae are stronger and faster than us, but he carries me without the least bit of effort.I bet he’d be a hell of a lot of fun in the sack.I blush, thinking of the many different positions we could try if he can carry me this easily.
His gaze meets mine. “What?”
My blush deepens. “What?”
“You’re staring at me,” he says, a little frustration in his voice.
“I’m not.” I shake my head, even though I was.
After a second, he says, “It’s okay. The scar is a lot.”
I feel every muscle in my body tighten. His scar? That’s not what this is about.
Then, he’s setting me down, and I feel like something precious is slipping through my fingertips. His hands linger on me while I gain my footing, and then he steps back, and he looks like a lost boy. Like the boy in my dream.
“Do you want me to turn around?” he asks.
Of course. He’s not going to just watch me bathe!
We’re close enough to camp that I can hear the others, but far enough through the trees that I can’t see them. “You can head back to camp, I’ll be fine.”
Now, it’s his turn to shake his head. “No.”
“Prince Forrest–”
“You don’t have to add the prince, you’re my mate,” he says stubbornly.
Well, I guess there’s no winning with this one. “Yes, just turn around.”
He does so. Back stiff.
