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Hellion chuckled and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “It would look better on you naked.”
Oh, gods.
Memories of the nights we’d spent together in Cian’s quarters flooded my brain, pushing everything else out. I forgot how to breathe.
“Hellion, behave yourself.”
My shoulders tensed at the sound of Cian’s voice, heart jumping into my throat. I hadn’t even heard him come in.
“You know what the doctor said,” Cian continued.
Hellion chuckled and stepped back, giving me room to breathe. “I was only priming him for you. Nevahn is always more agreeable when his cock is hard, aren’t you?” Their grin was a wide, white slash across their face.
I flushed and looked over at Cian as if he’d help me. He wore the same black leather he’d put on for Midsummer, though Cian’s face was streaked with dirt and sweat instead of war paint. His snow-white hair hung in several braids, all pulled loosely back from his face.
He shifted the helmet under his arm and said with a hesitant smile, “The book. I never got to thank you.”
“I… We… You’re welcome. You look… good.” My brain and the rest of me had suddenly stopped communicating, which had clearly been Hellion’s intent. It was a dirty trick.
“And you’ve grown a beard.” He passed me, dropping the helmet on the table. “Not that I don’t approve, mind you. I think you wear it well.”
“I like it on him,” Hellion mused. “I’m surprised, actually. I hadn’t realized it would come in red everywhere, though I should have known. He has the most beautiful bright red hair down by his cock.”
I huffed. “Quit trying to flatter me.”
“Why? It’s clearly working.” They chuckled and went to help Cian out of his armor.
Cian tugged at the small band of metal around his neck. It clattered to the table. “Sorry I wasn’t here to inspect the ballistas.”
“We need to talk,” I blurted.
He hesitated, halfway through unbuckling the straps that held the leather breastplate in place. His voice was strained when he spoke. “I know.”
Cian winced as Hellion helped him take off the leather breastplate, leaving him in just the white linen undershirt. The fabric was thin enough I could see straight through it, even in the dim light. Deep purple bruises coated one side of his ribcage, fading to gray at the edges. Smaller lateral cuts ran up and down his back, along his other side, along his arms.
I spat out a curse at the sight of him.
“Well, someone’s learned a new word,” Hellion quipped.
“What the hell happened to you? Why aren’t you healing?” Not thinking, I stepped up to him, placing a hand on his injured side.
Cian flinched away with a small hiss of pain. “Mostly because I’m standing here talking to you. Don’t trouble yourself. It was just a training exercise.” He finally looked down at himself and cringed. “Although it looks bad, doesn’t it? Odan had a lot to work out today, it seems.”
“Odan did that to you? Intraining?” He really had been going easy on me then.
“Hellion was much worse off, I promise you.” He winced and eased himself into the chair, holding his bruised side with one hand.
“Do you need a healer? Or some water? Or I know how to make a salve out of reeds and—”
“Nevahn.” The command was gentle, but firm, amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. “I can heal myself, remember?”
“Oh.” I swallowed, willing the color out of my face. Why was it suddenly so hot in there? “I just thought… I don’t know. I forgot how hard it is to think sometimes when I’m around you both.”
Hellion crossed their arms and went to stand next to Cian. “We could fuck and then talk. Maybe you’ll be able to think better after.”
“Stop being so godsdamn horny, Hellion,” Cian growled. “Have a little patience. He’s only just arrived, and I’m sure it hasn’t been an easy few months.”
Hellion frowned and looked away. “I can’t help it. You know how I get after a battle, and I haven’t been able to do anything about it. This is torture.”
