Chapter 17

I was supposed to be making my escape, and instead I sat there with a man's head in my lap.

Again.

Admittedly for quite different reasons to the other night, but still. All thoughts of sneaking off in the night were driven from my mind the minute the catamount leapt forward. I'd not even seen the blasted thing approach, which, of course, was their modus operandi. They were silent killers, something my father's men were often sent forth from the castle to deal with.

I was a fool, I thought furiously as I combed Roan's hair back from his face. Because if I focused on that, the silky slip of it through my fingers, I could hold it all off. The sound of the cat's scream, the whistle of the wind as it leapt through the air. My scream, high and girlish, as I tried to fight the water's pull, striding through it as fast as I could to get the hell away before… I blinked, smoothing my hands down Roan's temples. The man purred like a cat under the attention, which had the memory replaying again.

I was no match for what lurked within the forest. Arik's sharp words annoyed me beyond measure, but that didn't mean he wasn't right. An escape through the trees was a suicide mission. I'd have to think of another way. Perhaps if we stopped at a town… Mother said I'd be raped and killed by riverboat captains, but what if I employed some guards of my own? Sellswords lurked at most settlements, looking for paid work. I could—

My thought process was cut off when Roan coughed. My hand moved in an instant to pick up the water skin Creed had left by my side. Creed himself watched both of us with the eyes of a wolf as he stirred tonight's dinner in a cookpot. I had become less disconcerted by the beast-man's gaze. I could reason with him, and he seemed uncommonly loyal, only looking away from the two of us when he needed to add more ingredients to the meal.

"Water, Sir Roan?" I asked, pulling the cork.

"Thanks, lass." He tried craning his neck to take a sip, but spluttered, so I help him sit fully upright to assist the process.

"He's milking this for all its worth, you know." Arik was a sour presence by the fire, shredding one dried leaf, then another, as he watched the proceedings.

That he did nothing to help in preparing the meal or in healing Roan made perfect sense. The man was objectionable. He'd known who I was the entire time, which caused me to wonder at his motivations last night. If he knew he was to escort me to his king to be married, why would he…? But those thoughts were interrupted as Creed approached with a ceramic bowl he'd just filled from the cookpot.

"You need to eat," he insisted, proffering the bowl to me. I took it, but I went to spoon the stew into Roan's mouth.

And Arik made a rude sound of disgust.

"As much as I'd love for you to feed me," Roan said, closing his hands over mine, "Creed's right. You've had a terrible shock and that takes its toll on you. You eat that up, and I'll make sure to eat every drop of my bowl."

His keen amber eyes caught the moment my grip tightened on the bowl and spoon. Creed brought another bowl over and Roan settled himself close enough that his body pressed against mine. That affected me such that I needed to let a slow breath out, but when I pulled my next breath in, the aroma of the stew wafted up into my nose and sent my guts roiling.

I'd nearly died today. On my first day away from my father's castle, I'd barely missed becoming a catamount's dinner. I frowned as I imagined those massive jaws scissoring pink flesh from my bones, turning me into so much meat. My whole body shook in the most disconcerting way, the reaction entirely involuntary. I quivered like a little girl, like a leaf. And I'd thought I could just slip—

"Eat up."

When I looked up, Roan's eyes were like warm honey, their sticky depths something I wanted to dive into, but the gentle amusement there was a balm for my soul. If he could face the beast down and then eat his dinner, so could I, though it was only when he balanced the bowl between his knees, one hand spooning stew into his mouth and the other snaking around my back, that I was able to try to eat my own food. One mouthful and I saw the wisdom of his words. The warmth of it hit my belly and spread out, driving away the terrible chill. I swallowed another spoonful, then another, craving that warmth and feeling of satisfaction. I'd grab at any pleasure I could find right now, if only to drive the cold away.

"Have another."

Creed appeared by my side with more food.

"Oh no, I'm—" I started to say.

"There's plenty more," he insisted. "Or I can make you something else."

"A soufflé for dessert, perhaps?" Arik's sardonic tones cut through the air. "Or a sweet little tart?"

"Arik…" Roan growled, his brows furrowing.

"If we've all eaten, perhaps the princess can do the dishes," Arik said, with a smirk.

"You're on clean-up duty."

Roan carefully got to his feet, took my empty bowl and his and dumped them at Arik's feet.

"Fine." Arik gathered up the bowls from the ground with a clatter, snatching Silas' out of his hand when it was proffered with a grin. "The rest of you need to get ready for bed. We'll be up early. Be prepared to ride at dawn. Now, who's taking first watch, because it won't be me."

"I will." Silas rose, naturally displaying the kind of elegance that gentlemen strove for, tossing his long, dark hair over his shoulders as his hand went to his waistband. I blinked as he tugged his shirt free and threw it to one side. The others were doing the same. Weapons were tossed to the ground and boots were eased off, but that wasn't what I focused on.

I'd thought Silas was the moon to Arik's sun, and that was never more apparent than now. In the hot haze of roseblood, I hadn't remembered seeing him shirtless, because I was sure I would have recalled this. Pale, pale skin stretched over taut muscles—there wasn't an inch of softness in his body, but when he moved, I could glimpse long, spiralling scars. Pale, silvery, and almost invisible until he twisted his torso and the firelight exposed them all. Almost decorative, they seemed to cover him. Whether this was some kind of primal scarification Kheanians indulged in, I didn't know. My staring obviously caught his attention, and those green eyes met mine across the fire. His lips thinned and his jaw muscles twitched as he stared, every line of his body daring me to make comment.

About what?

My ignorance of the male body knew no bounds. Perhaps this was a commonplace thing or…? My thoughts trailed away as his eyes narrowed before he stomped away from the fire to keep watch.

"This is your bedroll, lass," Creed said, unwrapping a tightly wound bundle and then laying it down on the ground. "Brand new and purchased at market the other day. Plenty of new blankets as well."

"So, we sleep here?" I looked around me. The sun had set, and the long shadows of evening had emerged in its place, threatening to swallow us all. "In the open?"

"Between the two of us," Roan explained, setting his sword down beside him. "We'll keep you safe. I've shown myself proficient with the sword and Creed sleeps with one eye open."

The other man shot him a dark look, but that softened when his focus came back to me.

"No one and nothing will touch you, not without my say so," Creed assured me. His fist went to his chest. "My beast and I are at your service, Your Majesty."

I blinked, then smiled faintly, not entirely sure what to say. I was sitting there, dressed only in a man's shirt that still smelled somewhat of Silas' crisp scent, with no skirts, no nightdress, not even any blasted underwear on. So I did the only thing I could think of, which was to scramble under the covers, wrapping the blankets tightly around me, much as I used to when a child. Somehow the ghosts and monsters my mind would conjure could never touch me if I was beneath the covers. Roan lay down in the bedroll beside me and smiled, his eyes heavy lidded.

"Creed makes sure to burn bitterleaf wood in any fire he makes," he explained, then yawned. "Keeps the nasal passages clear and the catamounts away. They hate the bloody smell and won't enter a camp for even the most delicious morsel."

I nodded, having to trust his words because I had no means of verifying them, though when his eyes fell closed, sleep eluded me. I was outside, without four walls to make me feel contained and safe. The fact remained that even if I was to sleep within a room, there was nowhere safe for me in this world. That message had been rammed home hard as I was growing up, but I hadn't wanted to believe it. And now I couldn't ignore it. I pressed my face into the soft cotton of the blankets and focusing on my breathing, keeping the breaths long and slow as I considered what the hell that might mean for me going forward.