Page 29 of His Mark

“To check the camp,” I said, rolling my shoulders. “See how many wounded we have, how bad the damage is. There are towels in the cabinet. I’ll be back in a while.”

Lia exhaled, nodding slightly, but there was something unreadable in her gaze.

I hesitated for just a second, studying her for a moment that felt far too long. Then I turned and headed for the door.

“Don’t wait up for me. We’ll talk more in the morning,” I said quietly.

I didn’t wait for an answer. Didn’t want an answer. Because if I stayed a second longer, watching the way the light played against her skin, the way her breath hitched just slightly every time I got too close…

I wouldn’t leave.

And right now, there was too much to deal with.

I had a battle to clean up from, a camp to hold together. A camp that might not be a feasible option anymore…

I shuddered at the thought.

Later, when things were calm, when I could finally breathe again, I’d deal with my Lia.

CHAPTER8

Lia

The cabin door clicked shut behind Silas, leaving me alone with nothing but the sound of water—hot, steaming water, rising higher in the tub.

I stared at it for a long moment, feeling the warmth of the room sink into my skin, loosening the knots in my muscles.

I exhaled slowly, then reached for the hem of my shirt. It was stiff with dried blood, torn in places from the fight. I peeled it off, wincing as the movement pulled at the sore spots along my ribs. My pants followed, leaving me naked since Silas had torn through my underthings. The cool air rushed over my bare skin before I quickly stepped into the bath.

The second the hot water touched me, I let out a groan and sank in, my body practically melting into the decadent heat.

Fuck, I needed this.

The ache in my limbs dulled as I let myself relax, the water rising higher, lapping at my collarbones. I tipped my head back against the edge of the tub, eyes fluttering shut, listening to the crackle of the fire in the other room.

After a few long, soothing minutes, I opened my eyes and reached for the bar of soap resting on the tub’s edge, lifting it to my nose. A faint, woodsy scent lingered on it—pine and cedar, like the mountains themselves. I rubbed it between my palms, working it into a lather before dragging it over my arms and legs, hair and body, washing away the blood, the sweat, the dirt of the fight, and everything lingering from my time alone with Silas earlier.

After a while, my mind started to settle. The heat of the water seeped into my muscles, loosening the tension, dulling the soreness that had settled deep in my bones after days of travel and fighting.

I should have been relaxing, should have been grateful for the hot bath, and the rare moment of peace.

But my mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

Silas had called mehis mate.

I huffed, dragging my hands down my face, sinking lower into the water until it reached my chin. It wasn’t just something he had said, it was the way he had said it, like it was a fact. Like it was inevitable. Like he already knew that I was his and he was just waiting for me to catch up.

And that infuriated me.

I didn’t belong to anyone. I never had, and I never would.

Right?

I frowned, trailing my fingers through the water.

It wasn’t just that he had claimed me; it was the way he did it, the way he had touched me, taken care of me, punished me like I was already his. And what was worse? Some small, treacherous part of me hadn’t hated it.

I groaned, tipping my head back against the edge of the tub, glaring up at the ceiling as if the answers would be carved into the wooden beams.

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