Page 146 of The Wishing Game

THIRTY-THREE

"Arms up," he commands, holding the hoodie up for me.

"You're being awfully bossy," I mumble under my breath, but I do as he says. I raise my arms, allowing him to slide the hoodie down on my body.

My clothes are now dry, and I'm no longer cold. But more questions than ever are clamoring inside my head.

"I told you before, human. You are my person. That means I protect you," he mentions smoothly before he throws a few more twigs over the fire. He tugs me closer to the flame, his hand moving up and down my back as he emulates the comforting gesture I used on him.

"What did you mean by that? If the markings were not made by a human, then who..."

He compresses his mouth in a flat line as he tightens his hold over me, pulling me closer and sliding his arm over my shoulder.

"A god," he answers grimly.

"W-what? But how? Why?" I burst out. "I don't understand..." I add weakly.

"I do not understand it either. But I aim to find out." He grinds his teeth, his body tensing.

"You'll help me figure it out?" I ask in a small voice.

He breathes harshly.

"I will not spare anyone who laid a hand on you, human. You have my word," he assures me. "For now, you need to eat. We have a long day ahead of us."

I nod weakly.

He grabs our supply bag, taking out a couple of nut bars and handing them to me. I blink in confusion when I note he's not eating any. Then it dawns on me that I never inquired about the most important thing.

"How areyoufeeling? I'm so sorry. I should have asked that first." I sigh dejectedly.

His lips twitch, though he forces himself not to smile.

"I am perfectly fine. The venom is out of my system and I am back to my optimal functioning capacity."

"That's good to hear. You scared me last night."

"You were that worried about me?" he asks hesitantly.

"Of course. You're my friend, Ze. I don't want anything bad to happen to you." I smile.

He doesn't return the smile. Instead, he just stares at me, mumbling something inaudible under his breath.

"Let us depart," he suddenly declares, getting to his feet and sheathing his sword at his waist.

"What's wrong with you?" I mumble the question, quickly chewing on the remainder of my nut bar. "I haven't even finished eating."

Wasn't he the one who told me to eat earlier? Now he won't even let me do it at leisure.

He glowers at me, his lips tight and unmoving.

I pop the last piece of the bar in my mouth before placing my hands on my hips and returning his intimidating glare—all the while chewingveryloudly. To my surprise, that doesn't seem to bother him. Annoyance gives way to amusement as his lips curl at the corners, his features softening. Grabbing the bag off the floor, he searches for something inside of it.

I frown at his contradictory actions.

"Here," he says, throwing something at me.

I catch it instinctively. But as I open my fist and peel the thin tissue away, I notice a few squares of chocolate.

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