Page 66 of Given to the Fae
‘What happened to you?’ I ask.
He doesn’t answer at first, just comes closer until I’m staring up at him.
‘Sometimes I fight in the pits when I need...to get rid of frustration,’ he rumbles, canting his head. ‘You almost look as if you care about my injuries, little female.’
‘I do,’ I say quietly and realize that it’s true. ‘I’ve never seen one of those fights, but I’ve heard things from others who have. They’re vicious and bloody. Deadly.’
‘Moreso when they’re illegal,’ he mutters.
He takes a long pull of a wineskin in his hand and offers it to me.
I take it mostly because I’ve never beenofferedwine before. I take a gulp and grimace, handing it back to him with a face that makes him chuckle.
‘What were you frustrated about?’ I ask.
‘You,’ he grinds out and my eyes widen.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say automatically.
He grunts and takes another drink.
I’m in his bed. He probably wants to sleep. Cursing myself for my stupidity, I whisk the cover back, but before I can swing my legs over to the floor to get out, he’s dropped the wineskin on the coverlet and bent down, his arms caging me in.
‘You don’t have to go.’
My eyes dart from his face to anywhereeverywhere else as my nerves get the better of me. Now that he's closer, I notice a myriad of bruises, cuts, and scrapes, some bleeding through his white shirt. I focus on those instead of how heated my body feels in his presence, how much I want to reach out and run my fingers through his hair or down his chest just to know what it’s like to touch him.
He lets out what sounds like a calming breath through clenched teeth and, though it seems to be difficult for him, he straightens and takes a step back. His movements are jerky and his jaw is tense. He must be hurt more than he’s letting on.
I get out of the bed. ‘I could help,’ I say, gesturing to the blood smeared over him.
‘There’s no need,’ he rumbles. ‘I’ll take a potion later.’
I look up at him. ‘There aren’t any, my lord.’ I wince a little as I tell him, expecting his ire when he’s already in a bad mood. I hurry to explain.
‘There was only one left when we went through the packs and I was given it. I’m sorry. Jak was going to buy some at the market.’
‘Don’t call me that.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry.’
I rub my hands over my face. ‘I’m not really.’
I cover my mouth with my hand, shocked that I would say something like that aloud to a master, even one who pretends he isn’t.
‘Then why say it?’ he rumbles, sounding a bit amused now.
‘Because if I didn’t, I’d get a slap in The Barrack,’ I lie.
Another slave would get a slap and know the reason was me.
‘Do I have your permission to go into the packs for supplies?’
He stares down at me for a moment and then gives a small nod. ‘As you seem to have your heart set on helping, little human.’
My lip quirks on one side and I leave the room. I know which bag has the supplies in it so I grab it quickly and return to Morgan.
