Page 35 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
“What about you?” I ask her. “You seem to be injured, as well. You also need to eat meat.”
She shrugs, grinning at me. “I’m sure you’ll hunt something down for us.”
She has such confidence in me that it makes me feel uneasy. “Aren’t you afraid of me?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
Astra pauses in her packing, tilting her head to consider the idea. “Should I be?”
“I just killed three men without breaking a sweat. For all you know, I could have worse intentions than they did.”
She is quiet for a moment, stroking Luna’s fur. When she looks up, there’s a defiant gleam in her green eyes.
“Anyone and anything in this forest can kill me,” she says simply. “If I spent all my time being afraid, I’d never do anything.”
The cavalier way she accepts mortal peril makes my heart twist in my chest. “That’s not an answer.”
“Fine.” She sets Luna down gently and meets my gaze directly. “You could hurt me, yes. But you didn’t let those men hurt me when you easily could have walked away. You saved my life and my cat’s life, and now you’re bleeding and have wolfsbane poisoning because of it.” She gestures toward my wounds with that dazzling smile of hers. “Plus, I have the most dangerous mercenary in these woods guarding me now. What do I have to fear?”
A warmth spreads through my chest at her words. The most dangerous mercenary in these woods. She says it with such complete conviction, such genuine admiration, that it catches me off guard.
I’ve been praised by generals, honored by nobles, and feared by enemies across the kingdom. But none of their carefully crafted compliments have ever made me feel quite like this. There’s no political calculation in her voice, no attempt to curry favor. She simply believes what she’s saying.
Why does the honest praise from this nobody—this orphaned outcast with no wolf—affect me more than all the flowery speeches from those in my court?
“You don’t know anything about my reputation,” I say, testing her conviction.
“I know you moved faster than three trained warriors could follow. You killed them like it was nothing.” Her eyes spark with what I want to say is admiration. “That’s enough for me.”
The fuzzy feeling in my chest intensifies. When nobles praise my skills, it’s always with an underlying fear, a careful distance. But Astra speaks of my lethal abilities like they’re something to be grateful for, not terrified of.
I take a bite of the boar meat to avoid responding, disturbed by how much her simple faith in me matters.
“We need to change your bandages,” Astra says, suddenly rummaging through her knapsack again. “The wound needs to stay clean while the poison works its way out.”
“I can manage it myself.”
“I’m sure you can, but I have better supplies.” She pulls out a clean cloth and moves toward a small stream nearby. “Besides, I can see places you can’t reach.”
I watch her rinse the fabric in the running water and wring it out carefully. When she returns, she kneels beside me with the damp cloth.
“This might be cold,” she warns, reaching for the torn hem of my shirt.
“I said I can—”
“Oh, stop being difficult.” Her fingers brush against my skin as she lifts the fabric, and electricity shoots through me at the contact. “It’s just a bandage.”
But it’s not just a bandage. Her touch is gentle, careful, completely different from the clinical efficiency of royal healers. When she checks the edges of the wounds and her fingertips graze my abdomen, heat flares through my entire body.
“The swelling is going down,” she murmurs, leaning closer to examine the cuts. “That’s good. The paste is working.”
Her face is inches from mine now, close enough that I can smell the floral scent beneath the dirt and sweat of travel. Closeenough that I can see the way her dark lashes flutter when she concentrates.
“Astra.” My voice comes out rougher than usual.
“Hmm?” She doesn’t look up, too focused on her work.
“I can do this myself.”
“Don’t be such a baby. I’m almost done.” Her hand presses flat against my chest to steady herself, and I go completely rigid.
