chapter thirty-one

The beast dabbed at a bead of sweat on his brow. He felt hot. After being completely exhausted from the blood loss earlier, his body seemed to be itching to move now. Fever was starting to creep into his system, but his body was sturdier than most, so he knew he'd be fine. He just had to suffer through the symptoms until it passed.

He watched the girl to try to distract himself, his eyes fixated on the tea leaves as she tossed only a few into the pot at a time. It seemed unlikely that such few leaves would make any difference in a big pot, but she made him promise not to make tea ever again, so he couldn't say much.

He shifted to get a better look, propping up on his elbows, only to regret the movement. Pain shot through his side, causing him to hiss in pain and draw the girl's eyes to him.

"What did I tell you about lying still?" she scolded as she rushed over to lay him back down.

"I'm fine," the beast argued as he swatted her hands away. "I'm a big, strong beast, remember?"

"You're a big, stubborn patient who needs to lie still." Thea pushed past his hands, placing pressure on his shoulders until he returned to lying down. "Now stay. I don't care if you're a beast, a bull, or a dainty little princess; that wound needs to heal, and you'll only make it worse at this rate."

The beast huffed, fighting off the urge to snap at the girl for being so demanding. This was his domain, after all. She should be asking him to simply take a step, not raiding his garden to make them both meals, and helping herself to whatever supplies she needed.

She turned her attention back to his wound, then grabbed another strip of fabric to replace the old bandage. The beast groaned through the entire process, making sure to let her know just how much of an inconvenience all her meddling was.

"Goodness, and I thought Ceyden was whiny," she scoffed as she secured the new knot. "You'd think a big, strong beast would be better at licking his wounds."

"Well, you haven't even given me a chance to try," the beast said with a grimace. "What about you? You haven't even touched your own injuries." The beast looked at the scratch on her cheek and the swollen bruise on her lip. The blood had never even been wiped away from her face, leaving streaks of dark red flecks around the inflamed cut.

"Because they're hardly injuries," she said as she stacked the extra scraps of damp fabric that were freshly boiled. "A small cut is hardly anything to fuss over."

She tried to stand and step away from the bedside, but the beast snagged the end of one of her rags. The tug kept her to the ground, her brows knitting together as she gave him a puzzled look.

"If my injuries are worth fussing over, then so are yours." The beast studied her cut. It wasn't large, but it was deep, and the inflammation around the edges meant it was already close to being infected. She couldn't simply ignore it.

"You're being ridiculous," she said as she tried to tug the sanitized rags free. "Let go. I need to hang these up to dry so I can warm them up again later."

"I'll let you get up," the beast said with a cheeky tone sliding into his voice. "After you let me treat your injury."

"What?"

"Don't argue now. We wouldn't want to be a whiny patient ."

She scowled, dropping the rag with a narrowed glare. "I am not whiny. "

"Good, then you'll be quiet while I do this." The beast reached the rag toward her face, half expecting her to pull back or run from his claws.

With her frown still firm, her body remained stiff as she allowed the beast to wipe the rag over her split skin. She flinched when he made contact, proving to the beast that she was capable of feeling pain.

He tried to be gentle, focusing on cleaning off the dried blood so he could get a better look at the wound. It was definitely inflamed. Whatever those men used to clean their swords, it must have been as sterile as a pigpen.

"There's healing root on the left side of the garden," the beast explained as he set the rag down.

"Healing root?"

"I don't know what it's called above the surface, but it's a medicinal root that can cleanse infections. Dig about five inches into the ground, then bring it to me," the beast instructed.

He wasn't sure if she'd bother to listen, but to his surprise, she got up and went hunting in the garden. A few minutes later, she returned with soil-covered hands and a dark gray root in her palm. The beast took the root from her and wiped it clean with one of the damp cloths. The girl kneeled beside him, watching with fascination as he cut up the root with his claws and ground it into a paste between his fingers.

He'd discovered this root as a child when he'd skinned his knees, learning how to run. He wanted a way to relieve the pain, and the ring led him to the root, which he learned was capable of relieving pain and promoting healing. He didn't use it as much now that he was grown. Pain was a welcome change to his empty world, but that didn't mean the girl had to suffer.

He smoothed out the paste across his fingertips, then looked back at the girl, who was still watching his every move. He glanced between her cut and his fingers, his chest oddly tight as nerves fluttered in his gut.

"May I?" He nodded toward her cheek.

"Oh, um, sure." She shifted forward, her sparkling eyes only inches from his as he leaned in close to see what he was doing. "I'll be still." She flicked her eyes to his claws.

That's right, my claws.

He moved with the softest precision, holding his breath as he carefully brushed the pad of his finger against her cheek. He kept a close watch on his claws, performing each touch with as much tenderness as he could to ensure he didn't prick her skin. Her cheek was so soft around the edges of the cut, her skin warm and pink. She held perfectly still, not even rigid, as she allowed the beast to coat her injuries in the healing paste. Did she really have that much faith that he wouldn't scratch her?

His fingertips tingled as he brushed her skin. When was the last time he had touched another person that wasn't in a fight? Or the last time he'd touched someone without a shriek or flinch?

I can't remember.

He covered the rest of the wound, then moved toward the swollen part of her lip. He waited before touching her, making sure she didn't want to pull back before he pressed his fingertip against her soft lower lip. She looked up at him through her lashes, and their eyes connected for a moment as his finger lingered on the edge of her mouth. Fairmyth, she was beautiful... Did she even know she looked at people like that?

What am I doing?

He pulled his hand back with a clear of his throat, then wiped off the remaining paste with one of the rags.

"There." He looked down at his hands. "That should help."

"Thank you," she said as she slowly pulled back, her eyes still locked on the beast's like there was a reason she couldn't look away. "That was very kind of you."

The fluttering in the beast's gut returned. "It was just my way of saying thanks... for helping me, I mean. So thanks..." he paused, realizing that after all this time, he still didn't know her name.

"Theabelle." She smiled. "Or Thea for short."

Theabelle...

"You can call me Zared," he said, his throat tightening around the name that he hadn't repeated in years. It was the only memory he retained from outside the labyrinth, "Or just beast, if you prefer."

"Zared," she said, testing out the name as if deciding how it felt. "I like that. Thank you for sharing it with me."

"And thank you for sharing yours... I, uh, I'm not really used to using it, but I'm not really used to others looking out for me, either."

Or looking at me at all...

"Just don't be like your brother and get too used to it," she said with a humored smile. "I don't need anyone else growing too fond of my assistance."

Too fond?

"Why?" the beast asked. "Was my brother too reliant on your company?"

Curiosity swam through the beast's mind as he recalled how his brother had supposedly given Thea the rose. They must have had some sort of connection for him to steal something so valuable for her .

Her cheeks turned red, though he couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. Had he said something to upset her?

"I'm going to get some more water." She stood hastily, grabbing the soiled rags to return to the boiling pot. "And I might take a quick walk."

The beast blinked, left in the dust as she hurried out of view. Did something happen between her and his brother? He wasn't sure why, but that fluttering feeling just kept coming back...