Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

P ushing the door open with her foot, Lucia entered the little room she had booked for the night for them. Tomorrow, they would have to leave and get on with her plan, but for now, she could rest. She had earned it after that fight, and after Alaric’s rescue. Even if he was never in any real danger, Rory’s men had done a number on her.

Cursed amateurs. They dinnae even ken how tae stage a fake fight.

At least they had gotten her what she wanted. A few hours of rest should be enough to get her back in top shape, even with her newly acquired injuries. This wasn’t the first time she had been involved in two fights in one day, nor were these fights anywhere near the worst she had ever had.

Once in the room, she turned to look at Alaric, her hands coming to rest on her hips. “Get out,” she barked. “I need tae change.”

“Is this how ye always speak tae people?” Alaric asked. “A lady?—”

“I already told ye I’m nae a lady,” Lucia reminded him. “Will ye go out or will I have tae force ye?”

Alaric seemed to consider his options for a moment before he silently left the room, much to Lucia’s relief. She didn’t want to be involved in a third fight that day, after all, even if she could win it, considering how badly injured Alaric was.

Cursed amateurs!

Rory’s men should have never injured him like that, she thought. What use was a hurt man to her? With all the blows he had received to the head, they could have even killed him and then Lucia would have had to find someone else to take his place.

The moment Alaric was gone, Lucia rummaged through her things to find her nightclothes. It was only then that it occurred to her Alaric had nothing with him but the clothes on his back, but it would have to do. They could get him everything he would need with the coin Lucia had won—a small sacrifice considering what she would gain out of having him on her side.

She began to undress, letting her plain brown tunic fall down. Just then, the door opened and Lucia, startled, whipped her head to look at the intruder, only to find Alaric there, frozen by the door. She knew what it was that had rendered him both motionless and speechless—not her nudity, but rather the jagged, pink scars that ran down the length of her back.

“Get out!” Lucia screeched and it was that which sent Alaric into frantic motion. He fled the room, slamming the door behind him, but he had already seen everything Lucia didn’t want him to see.

She would have much rather shown him any other part of her body than her back. Now she could only hope Alaric wouldn’t ask any questions about it. The last thing she wanted was to be questioned about her past by a man who wasn’t supposed to know anything about it in the first place.

With trembling hands, Lucia continued to undress before slipping on her nightclothes. Then, she folded her tunic, placed it on the dresser, and promptly got under the covers, at the very edge of the bed farthest from the door.

“Come in!” she called. The door opened slowly, timidly, and Alaric poked just his head inside, as though he hadn’t already barged in once without knocking into the room. When he stepped fully inside, Lucia sat up a little, glaring at him. “Would ye like tae explain why ye came intae the room when I told ye tae stay out?”

“I wished tae grab me cloak,” Alaric said stiffly, pointing at the cloak that was draped over the rickety chair in the corner of the room. “I didnae realize ye would already be… undressin’. I apologize.”

He said nothing more on the matter. He didn’t ask Lucia any questions or mention her scars at all. Instead, he only removed his tunic, keeping the rest of his layers on as he slid into bed next to her, he, too, keeping to the other edge so that there was some space between them.

Nowhere near enough space, in Lucia’s opinion, but it would have to do. They both needed a good night’s rest if they were going to leave the following morning, so she tried her best to ignore Alaric and the fact that they were so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his body.

It was nothing new, she told herself. This was not the first time she had had to sleep next to a man. If anything, there had been several instances when she had had to sleep among several men and it had never been an issue before. Then again, those men hadn’t been strangers. Lucia had been one of them, part of their ranks, and save for a few notable exceptions, none of those men had ever caused her any trouble.

Alaric was the problem, she thought, as she tossed and turned in bed, trying in vain to get comfortable enough to sleep. Even exhausted as she was, any hours of sleep seemed out of reach and the more she remained awake while Alaric slept peacefully next to her, his deep, steady breaths loud in the silence of the room, the more agitated she became.

Why does he get tae sleep an’ I cannae?

Probably because of his injuries, Lucia figured. They had exhausted him enough for him to sleep without a care in the world, even as her own had done nothing but frustrate her. Even now, her jaw and lip throbbed, and she could still taste the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. Her only consolation was the pouch of coins in her pocket and the satisfaction that came with her strength and skill being recognized.

As Lucia lay in bed in the dark, staring at the near total blackness, every sensation in her body seemed to become magnified; not only the pain she felt, but also her sense of smell, ale and sweat and pine invading her nose with their scents; her sense of temperature, until she was too warm and itchy, even on a chilly night like it was; and even her sense of hearing, every small sound suddenly loud in her ears. From one moment to the next, she realized she was parched, mouth dry and lips sticking together, and that, at least, she could fix.

She had left a cup of boiled water to cool on the small table by the bed to help with Alaric’s headache. With any luck, there would be some left in there. The only problem was that it was at the other side, by Alaric’s head, and Lucia didn’t feel like getting up, nor did she want to make too much noise by walking on the creaky floor. For a few moments, she contemplated her options, before finally giving up and reaching over Alaric to grab the cup.

Her hand never closed around it. Before she knew it, she was on her back on the mattress, pinned down by Alaric’s full weight. A sharp, cold blade was pressed against her throat, the edge of it digging cruelly into her skin.

When did he even hide that?

She should have been paying more attention. She had made the mistake of underestimating Alaric, of thinking that he was too hurt to do anything but sleep the pain off. She had also thought he would be more trusting, not seeing her as a threat, even after her display of skill in the rink.

Perhaps that had been a mistake, fighting in front of him. Perhaps she should have pretended to be a damsel in distress for a while longer, making sure she had his trust before revealing her true self.

Then again, there was still plenty Alaric didn’t know about her, and Lucia didn’t plan on telling him any of it.

She didn’t try to struggle. That would only earn her a cut on the throat at best, a severed head at worst. Instead, she simply lay there, panting as she looked up at Alaric, who was trying to blink the sleep off his eyes.

“Lucia?” he asked. His grip didn’t slacken, nor did the blade leave her throat. “What are ye doin’?”

Lucia swallowed in a dry throat, the slight movement pressing her neck against the edge of the blade. “I was tryin’ tae get the cup.”

Alaric glanced over his shoulder for a brief second before his eyes found Lucia again in the dark, narrow and suspicious. Neither of them moved for what seemed like eons to Lucia. She could feel every part of him, their bodies pressed tightly together, and she had to fight her own body to stop herself from rolling her hips, seeking the friction she so desperately wanted.

She could do it, she thought. She could grab him and pull him in for a searing kiss, letting herself indulge in the desire he had sparked so suddenly inside her. Never before had she felt such a thrill run down her spine as now, seeing this other side of Alaric. Up until then, Lucia had thought of him as a warrior, yes, but also a little meek and quick to follow directions. It was only now that she saw herself reflected in him, this more vicious side of him coming to the forefront, that he piqued her interest as something more than a mere tool to get what she wanted.

Slowly, reluctantly even, Alaric loosened his grip on her and removed the blade from her neck. Lucia almost missed it, the threat of danger, the bruising grip, the way his body held her down so firmly. She could have escaped his grasp if she so wished, as long as that blade wasn’t pointed at her, but she quickly found that she didn’t want to escape. She wanted more of this—more of Alaric, more of this dizzying proximity that filled her body with a fiery need, as though she had been thrown to the flames.

Alaric was already pulling back, though, clearing his throat awkwardly as he placed the knife on the side table and instead grabbed the cup of water, handing it to Lucia without ever even meeting her eyes.

He’s embarrassed… poor lad.

The water was tepid, but at least there was enough of it to quench Lucia’s thirst and to give her something with which to busy herself while Alaric settled back in bed. This time, he left the knife on the side table and Lucia could only assume it was for her sake, to show her that, even if he didn’t quite trust her, he maybe wasn’t going to attack her in the middle of the night unprovoked.

Placing the cup on the floor next to the bed, Lucia settled back down, but her heartbeat refused to slow. She was still painfully aware of Alaric next to her, and this time, she could tell he was not sleeping, even though he wasn’t moving a muscle. His breathing wasn’t as even, as effortless, as though he was trying his best to appear asleep but was now just as awake as Lucia had been all this time.

Good. I shouldnae be the only one tae suffer tonight.