Page 126 of Queen of the Crimson Throne

I wasted no time in giving everyone tasks—needing supplies and a healer to tend to Luka while Declan helped me get him into the bath.

“I’m fine.” Luka swatted away Declan as he helped him into the tub. “Stop babying me.”

“You were tortured, Luka. Let us help you,” Declan argued.

“Fine,” Luka huffed. “But I’m not letting you bathe me.”

Delcan raised his hands in surrender. “Fine by me.”

“Declan, I think I’ve got it from here.”

Luka looked over his shoulder at me. “I can bathe myself, I’m fine.”

His face was no longer swollen. The healer had given him a tonic and with mine and Luce's combined healing abilities he was already looking normal, the wounds were healing and the color was coming back into his face. But there were dark circles under his eyes, and blood coated his body.

And that fucking brand, it was starting to heal, but the remnants of a wound that severe would remain.

“Please, let me help you. I want to,” I said softly. He eyed me for a long moment before finally dipping his chin.

50

LUKA

Lennox returned a while later, soaps and a washcloth in hand as she knelt beside the tub.

She lathered the cloth in soap before holding it out to me. “May I?”

I didn’t take my eyes off her as she tentatively began rubbing the cloth over my skin. She started with my shoulder. Taking her time as she gently scrubbed the blood from my skin. She made her way down one arm before moving to the other.

She didn’t look at me as she worked, which allowed me free rein to look at her. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, but there were deep circles under her eyes. I doubted she had slept since before we had left to search for the Galtain family.

I wasn’t even sure how much time had passed since I had been taken.

A day at least, judging by where the sun was in the sky.

Or more.

There had been no windows in that chamber.

Once Lennox finished with my arms she moved to my neck and next my face. Ever so gently she brought the cloth over my face. I watched the heavy rise and fall of her chest and shedipped the cloth back in the water before bringing it back to my cheek again.

She dipped the cloth back in the water again, this time she brought it to my chest. I sucked in a breath as she moved the cloth over the brand.

She jerked back and removed the cloth. “I’m sorry,” she stammered.

“It’s fine.”

Her eyes remained fixed on the burned flesh. “Does it still hurt?”

“A little. The skin still feels tender.” It hurt my pride more than anything to have the mark on my skin, to know I was marked by them. The skin would heal, but a wound that deep would leave a scar.

“I’m going to find a way to get rid of it,” she declared as she dipped the cloth in the water again before getting back to cleaning my chest.

“You don’t have to. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” she bit out. “It’s all my fault.” She dropped the cloth in the water and sat back on her heels—staring at her wet hands as they soaked through the fabric of her nightgown.

“What do you mean it’s your fault?”

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