Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

NYRA

Iwinced when Dacre landed another slap against my stomach.

He had taken to barely hitting me after the last three days of training. His eyes had narrowed on the way I stumbled into the training ground this morning, and he’d been gentler today than he had ever been before.

But I didn’t trust him.

“Pay attention.” He growled. “You’re letting me get in hits I shouldn’t be able to.”

“I’m sore,” I protested, gasping for air as I tried to catch my breath.

“Soreness is not an excuse.” Dacre’s voice was stern as his eyes flicked between mine. “You need to push past the pain.”

He lunged forward, and I ducked and spun away at the last second, feeling the rush of air as his hand barely missed me. “You’re not even trying.”

I gritted my teeth and forced myself to focus. Dacre had been relentless in his training the last couple days, and his instructions echoed in my ear. But memories of his hands hot on my skin as we moved through the routines made me lose my concentration. All around us, the air swirled thick with the scent of our sweat, and beads of perspiration trickled down his broad shoulders and chest.

I took a deep breath, shaking off the thoughts that were plaguing me, and launched myself forward, my fist flying toward his face. He easily dodged it, but I didn’t let that stop me. I followed up with a kick toward his stomach, and it connected with a satisfying thud.

Dacre stumbled back, caught off guard by my sudden attempt to actually train, and he snatched my hand, jerking me with him.

He hit the ground, and a cloud of dust floated around him just before I landed at his side.

Without hesitation, I pushed to my knees and lunged toward him. I grabbed his shoulders, trying to push him to the ground, but he was so damn strong. He quickly overpowered me, pinning me beneath him as he straddled my torso. He held my wrists tightly above my head as we struggled on the ground.

I could feel the heat of his body everywhere.

“Good.” He grunted. “You’re finally trying.”

I lay on the ground, my body frozen under the intensity of the way he watched me. We were both breathless from the exertion, but I was panting for more reasons than that alone.

“Hey, Nyra.” I heard the sound of Eiran’s voice, and I tore my gaze from Dacre to see Eiran standing at the edge of our sparring circle with his arms crossed.

I attempted to pull my wrists out of Dacre’s hold, but his fingers were clamped like a vise, and I could feel slight tremors in my fingers.

“Hi, Eiran.” I swallowed hard against the lump forming in my throat. Dacre’s grip stiffened against my hands when Eiran’s name passed my lips.

Eiran’s gaze darted back and forth between us, his eyes lingering on me a little longer each time. I could feel heat rise in my cheeks as I realized the position Dacre currently had me in.

“Is there something we can help you with, Eiran?” Dacre’s gaze reluctantly drifted from my face to Eiran, but his strong hands remained firmly pressed against my wrists. My muscles tensed beneath him as I squirmed, and the hardness of his thighs pressed into my sides as he shifted his weight.

“A few of us are going out for drinks tonight, and I was going to see if you’d like to come, Nyra.” Eiran looked directly at me, and the way he specifically said my name didn’t go unnoticed.

I opened my mouth to answer him, to tell him that I was far too tired to even consider his offer, but Dacre sat up straighter, releasing my hands and answering before I could.

“Nyra and I are actually about to hit the springs. She’s not going to make another day of training if she doesn’t heal her body a bit.”

I whipped my head toward him, startled by what he’d just said, but he was still staring up at Eiran.

“Thank you for the invitation though.” Dacre gave Eiran a smile that felt anything but friendly.

Dacre finally pushed off me, and Eiran’s mouth opened and closed as Dacre held his hand out to help pull me up. I wanted to refuse him, but I knew there was a chance I wouldn’t be able to get off this ground if he didn’t help me.

He wrapped his hand around mine and effortlessly lifted me to my feet. As I stumbled forward, my chest bumped against his, and I had to press my hands against his arms to stop myself from falling into him farther. My face flushed as I quickly averted my gaze from his intense dark eyes. “Thank you, Eiran. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” He pushed his hand through his hair, but his gaze was narrowed on Dacre as he turned away. “I’ll get with you tomorrow.”

As soon as his footsteps faded, I pivoted on my heel and found myself staring into Dacre’s chest. I looked up until I finally met his dark irises that glimmered in the low light of the room.

He leaned closer, and his breath tickled my cheek as he whispered, “What?”

“What if I wanted to go?” I didn’t, but that fact didn’t matter.

“Too bad.” He ran his hands over his chest, checking meticulously over his weapons. “You just told me how sore you were. You need an evening in the springs.”

“I don’t know. A night full of drinking wine could make me forget my sore body.”

His gaze ran over said body from the bottom of my feet until he finally reached my gaze. It felt like a slow caress, like an exploration that neither one of us should have allowed.

“And you would wake up tomorrow with a headache and your body just as sore as it is now. You want to drink? I’ll grab some wine on our way.” He moved back from me and grabbed all his things before he started walking off, leaving me behind.

I quickly caught up to him, even though my legs were screaming at me at the effort.

Dacre didn’t say anything as we weaved through the tunnels and past several people who were milling about. I noted the way almost everyone nodded in his direction as he passed.

They didn’t trust me.

“These people really worship you, don’t they?”

Dacre grumbled as he stopped at a small building and quickly knocked on the door. “They don’t worship me. They respect me.”

The door opened, and a beautiful woman with long red hair answered with a smile on her face. A smile that was directed at Dacre.

“Can I get a bottle?” Dacre asked instead of greeting her, but the woman simply nodded.

She disappeared for only a second before she came back with a large dark olive bottle and placed it in Dacre’s hand. “This one is dangerous. But nothing you can’t handle.”

“Thanks,” Dacre answered gruffly before walking away without another word.

The woman watched him leave, and I chuckled even as jealousy twisted in my gut. “You could have fooled me.”

“What?” He looked down at me, and his brows were drawn together as if he had no idea what I was talking about.

“You barely said two words to that girl back there, and she was looking at you like you hung the moon. Clearly, these people have never trained with you.”

That caused a laugh to escape Dacre’s mouth, and I smiled. “A lot of these people have trained with me actually.”

“Well, I can guarantee that I’m not going to like you after I finish training with you. I might even be plotting your death as we speak.” I was joking, but I still winced at my words. The man didn’t trust me already. The last thing I needed was to make him question my motives even more.

“I could train you for a century, and you still wouldn’t be able to take me out.”

“You’re very full of yourself.” I huffed as we rounded the corner toward the hot springs, and the cloying heat in the air caused my breath to catch in my chest.

Dacre chuckled. “I have reason to be. I’ve been fighting for this rebellion for most of my life.”

We stepped up to one of the closest springs, and I looked around and realized that there was only one other person here. A woman in the back corner, and from the way her head was laid back against the rocks, she appeared to be asleep.

“Where is everyone?”

Dacre set the wine down near the edge of the spring before toeing off his boots.

“It’s late.” He groaned softly as he pulled his vest full of weapons away from his chest. “Most of our warriors have already been here if they needed it.”

I wished Wren was with us, or Eiran. Or anyone for that matter.

Because this felt too intimate.

The air around us felt like it was pressing in, suffocating us both. It was as if the space between us had turned into a mix of heat and tension, completely different from the icy chill of the training grounds that I had started to become accustomed to.

“Strip down, traitor.” Dacre paused, his gaze tracing the form of my body before sliding up to meet my eyes. He then grabbed the hem of his shirt at the back of his neck and pulled it off in one swift motion, revealing his toned chest. “You can’t get into the springs in full leathers.”

“I don’t think I need the springs today.” I stuttered the words as I averted my gaze from his abdomen, the ripples of muscle visible beneath his tan skin.

His eyes narrowed on me as he crossed his arms. “I could hear your little whimpers with every step we took here. You’re getting in this water.”

He was right, of course, but that didn’t make me any less self-conscious. I winced as I squatted down and untied my boots before pulling them from my feet.

Dacre unfastened his trousers and dropped them to the ground. He stepped over the bottle of wine he had left lying there, and without hesitation, moved toward the steaming pool. His back was broad and toned as he descended into the steam-laced water.

My eyes traced his defined muscles, appreciating the way they flexed with each movement. But my gaze then fell upon a dark, mottled bruise that marred the smoothness of his skin. It started at his shoulder blade and extended down his side, its angry hues standing out against the tan of his body.

“What happened?” I shrugged out of my vest, letting it fall to the ground next to me.

“What do you mean?” The steam crept up his body as he inhaled sharply against the water that lapped around his neck and shoulders. His skin glistened with water in the dim light, and his fingers dug deep into the coarse stones on the edge of the pool as he settled back against it.

“Your side.” I nodded toward his body as I undid my trousers with trembling fingers and pulled them down my legs.

Dacre’s eyes roamed over my body, lingering on each curve with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine. His gaze was intense, like a predator sizing up its prey, and I couldn’t help but feel exposed under his scrutiny.

“What happened to your side?” I crossed my arms as I inched closer to the water even as my heart rate rose.

“Shirt too.”

“What?” I scrutinized his face, noting the dark shadows under his eyes.

“Lose the shirt too. The water needs to touch your skin if it’s going to speed up your healing.”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“And you’re avoiding taking off that damned shirt.” The way Dacre cocked his head made me feel uneasy. He had barely moved, yet every part of him felt like a threat.

I groaned as I stepped into the steaming pool of water, the heat radiating around my aching ankles. His gaze was heavy on me as I inched farther in, and soon, the fabric of my shirt clung to my skin, weighed down by the water.

Dacre’s gaze lingered on the damp patches of my shirt sticking to my skin in the sweltering heat. Goose bumps rose on my arms as a chill ran down my spine. I pushed through the water, feeling its soothing warmth seep into my muscles until it reached my chest.

“It’s nothing,” Dacre finally mumbled, his voice low and throaty. “Just a little run-in with a group of your people.”

I winced at his words. My people.

“Does it hurt?” I asked, gesturing toward his bruised side.

Dacre’s lips were pressed together in a thin line as he shook his head, and a thin sheen of sweat was forming along his forehead. “It’s fine. Just a little sore. What about you?”

“Everything hurts,” I said through gritted teeth. A faint chuckle escaped my lips as I tried not to think about how sore I was.

Dacre’s lips curved ever so slightly, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “You’ll start to get used to it.”

“I can’t wait,” I said dramatically, and he laughed.

We soaked in silence for a few moments, the only sounds came from the gentle lapping of the water and the occasional sigh from one of us.

Dacre grabbed the bottle of wine and expertly removed the cork with a satisfying pop. He tilted his head back, letting the deep red liquid pour like a waterfall into his mouth. When he finished, he ran the back of his hand against his lips before he passed the bottle to me, and I eagerly accepted it.

It had been so long since I had tasted wine, and even in the palace, I was only allowed a respectable amount at formal dinners.

If I was allowed to attend the dinners at all.

My hands trembled as I slowly raised the bottle to my lips. I closed my eyes and relished the rich, bitter taste that filled my mouth, followed by a deep, satisfying groan.

It was sweet and earthy and far better than any I had ever had before.

“This is good,” I said before pressing the bottle back to my lips and taking another drink.

“It is.” Dacre reached forward and took the bottle from my hands before taking another drink himself. “It’s also dangerous. Especially in this heat.”

He held the bottle aloft, and the glint of firelight caught the outline of his profile, the curve of his chin and the sharpness of his jawline. He tilted his head back and took a long pull, his throat muscles working as he swallowed down the wine.

“It would seem everything around here is dangerous.” I pressed my hands to the spring floor, curled my fingers into the layer of pebbles that felt like a mosaic beneath me, and pushed the heels of my hands against the firm surface. The tiny stones shifted around my fingers as I dug into them.

“For you, absolutely.” He leaned forward until his frame drowned out the firelight and pressed the bottle back into my hand.

I hesitated, knowing I shouldn’t drink any more, but I didn’t want to say no, so I took the bottle from him and held it tightly against my chest.

“But not for you?” I tilted my head and scrutinized him. He appeared to be so confident and sure of himself, but now, a small part of me questioned how much of it was merely for show. His eyes shifted, avoiding mine, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

“There are dangers for me here, sure.” He locked his gaze back on me, and my heart thundered in my chest. I looked away from him as I brought the wine bottle to my lips.

“You could have gone drinking with everyone else tonight. I could have done this spring thing on my own.” I swiped my wet sleeve across my lips, feeling the warmth of the wine and the intensity of the spring surge through my veins and heat up my cheeks.

“And let you get lost?” A mischievous glimmer danced in his eye and the right corner of his mouth twitched up in a smirk as he said, “We would have probably never found you again.”

“Would that have been so bad?” I felt my shoulders rise close to my ears and fall again before I could stop myself, wishing I could retract the words from the air.

“I don’t know.” His eyes were glassy and searching. “Is there something worth you running back to?”

My voice came out as a whisper as I said, “I wouldn’t go back.” The hot, humid air was oppressive as I looked up and saw a single drop of water hanging suspended from the edge of the low ceiling. It slowly cascaded down until it hit my cheek, cool against my overheated skin. I closed my eyes and let myself feel the longing for home, for my mother. But she was gone, and with her, so was every trace of the home I had once known. “There’s nothing left for me there.”

I waited, expecting some kind of response from Dacre, but none came. The stagnant air seemed to vibrate around me as I breathed in the heavy silence.

“What hurts the most?” I jumped at the sound of Dacre’s voice, and when I turned my head toward him, his gaze caught mine.

I clenched my fist as I looked into his eyes, searching for the right words. Memories of all the times my father had hurt me flooded my thoughts, but I knew that wasn’t what he was asking. The silence between us hung heavy like a humid summer afternoon, and I felt sweat roll down the side of my neck.

“My left ankle.”

Dacre slowly nodded, his eyes locked on mine as he motioned to the edge of the spring. He stood until the water lapped against his stomach. His gaze never wavered as he reached out and extended his arm toward me, his open palm facing up. “Let me see.”

My throat tightened as he stepped closer, and his dark eyes bore into me. “What?” The word trembled in the air.

“Up.” He stopped in front of me, and I paused before slowly rising to my feet.

My shirt clung to my skin, exposing the outline of my body as I perched on the edge of the spring. His eyes ran over every dip and curve and lingered for what felt like an eternity, sending shivers through my skin.

The wine swirled through my veins like wildfire, clouding my judgment, but I didn’t want him to stop.

He had been cruel to me, but I still didn’t want him to stop.

He slowly reached out toward me, and before I had a chance to react, he was already grasping my ankle. His thumb traced small circles along its bone, and I couldn’t stop my body’s reaction to the sudden contact. Despite every instinct telling me to move away, I stayed rooted in place.

Gently, he lifted my ankle above the water and tenderly inspected it. His fingertips lightly grazed over the swollen joint, his shoulders lifting as he examined it with careful scrutiny.

“It’s just a sprain,” he said finally, his fingers still resting on my skin. “The springs will help it, but it will still need a few days to heal.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Every inch of my skin seemed to come alive beneath his gentle caress, each tiny spark of electricity sending goose bumps rippling through my body. I suddenly never wanted him to stop touching me, but I didn’t know how much longer I could handle being this close to him.

“Or I could heal it?” His gaze flicked up to mine and smoldered with an intensity that seemed to reach out and caress my skin as intensely as his fingers.

I nodded, my eyes closing as his fingers began kneading the sore muscles of my lower calf. His touch grew firmer with each slow circle he drew along my skin, the warmth of it sending a trail of pins and needles up my leg. I bit down hard on my lip to keep in the soft moan that threatened to escape.

I shifted my weight, and Dacre’s eyes followed the movement of my legs as I pressed my thighs together. His gaze was searing.

“This may hurt a little bit.”

I had been healed dozens of times before by the healers at the palace because my father wanted no proof of his merciless methods. The palace healers were no ordinary fae; they were a league above the rest, trained to heal the king himself. My father had made sure that not a single blemish was left behind after their work was finished.

I was the powerless heir, but he made sure I was unmarred by his cruelty.

The scars that were left behind after Micah healed me were the only ones that remained. The first time had been just after the raid. My father’s healers had no time to correct his brutality before the rebels stormed our palace.

And still I had lied to Micah about where the lashings that wrapped around my back to the edges of my stomach had come from. I lied to him even as he healed a complete stranger who he found hiding in the slums.

“It’s okay.” My voice was barely audible as his calloused fingertips skirted the edge of my ankle bone.

Without warning, his other hand came up and his damp fingers slid around the back of my calf, holding it higher out of the water. The move made my legs spread ever so slightly, and I breathed in harshly as I felt his power spread from his fingers and bleed into my skin.

The pull of pain was faint but kept me grounded as I panted and my lungs burned for air. A swirling warmth seemed to course through my veins, and I felt like I was in a trance as his fingertips grazed my skin and a soft golden light encircled my ankle.

He held me tightly for a long moment as his magic burned against my skin before he finally looked back up at me. “How does that feel?”

“Good,” I answered, but I wasn’t thinking about my damn ankle. I could hardly think of anything other than the way his fingers were still gripping me and the rivulets of water that were running down his bare chest before me.

“Good.” He cleared his throat softly and lowered my ankle until it was surrounded again by the hot water. His gaze fell to my mouth, and I rolled my tongue against my lips to taste the wine that still lingered there.

“We should head back.” He spoke the words, but he didn’t move away from me. I could feel the heat from his skin as he watched me intently, and I felt so exposed.

“We should.” I nodded, and the spring water lapped at my thighs.

He still didn’t move, and neither did I.

The air around us felt heavy and still, punctuated only by the sound of our shallow breathing.

“I should get you back to your room.” He turned away from me, focusing on the pile of our belongings that lay on the ground near us.

“Okay.” I nodded again and ran a trembling hand against my throat.

Dacre glanced back at me, but I was already climbing to my feet, my legs shaking beneath me as I passed by him and stepped out of the spring, my shirt clinging to my body like a second skin.

He sucked in a sharp breath, and the sound echoed through the caves. My heart raced as I forced my gaze away from him. Fingers trembling, I grabbed a towel that hung near the pool’s edge and hastily dried my legs.

I held the towel in my hands and brought it up to my chest, feeling the rough, damp fabric of my shirt sticking to me as if it were glued on. I ran the towel over it to try to collect at least a bit of the moisture, but it was no use.

Dacre’s heavy presence was overwhelming behind me, and I heard the soft thudding of his feet as he walked. I didn’t dare turn around, my head still foggy from the wine and far too aware of how attractive he was when he wasn’t being an ass.

I didn’t trust myself.

So I quickly grabbed my trousers and struggled to pull them on over my damp skin before I shoved my feet into my boots. I snatched my vest from the ground and held it against my chest.

Feeling a bit more secure, I turned and cautiously met his gaze. He was almost fully dressed himself, and I let myself watch as he slowly pulled the black fabric of his shirt over his head, hiding his toned arms and a broad chest, sending a wave of heat through my body.

He watched me carefully, too carefully, as he leaned forward and grabbed his own vest and weapons from the ground. He pulled it over his head, attaching everything, before he waved me forward.

And I followed.