Page 67 of Given to the Fae
‘Take off your shirt and sit on the bed,’ I say absently as I begin to rifle through the sack.
I get the bags of herbs and smell each of them thrice so I make no mistakes. Taking the ones I want, I empty the nuts from the bowl on the table and begin mixing with my hands, using a bit of water to bind it.
He watches me almost unblinkingly while I work.
‘Are you truly knowledgeable in the healing arts?’ he asks suddenly.
I grin as I combine the ingredients. ‘Afraid I’m just throwing things together and hoping it helps, or that I’m going to poison you?’
He chuckles. ‘Neither, I just wonder how you learned such a thing, is all.’
I look over at him, sitting on the bed shirtless and I realize in surprise that he actually did what I told him to do. He followed my orders.
‘I–’ I give myself a little shake. ‘There was a healer at The Barrack. He was a drunkard and a cunt, but he knew his art well enough and I watched him.’
I pick up one of the bags and smell it.
‘I know this is a root that calms raised flesh. It helps with angry wounds and rashes. I can tell you how and when to use it, and that too much will make your skin feel as if it’s burning, but I only know it by its look and smell. I’ve no idea where it grows nor what it’s called.’
‘You’re clever, you know. Cleverer than I.’
My cheeks heat and I focus back on my task with an awkward laugh. ‘I’m not.’
He’s silent after that while I knead the paste in the bowl until it resembles a thick, green dough. Then, I add a bit more water to thin it.
When I next look up, his eyes are closed and his face is turned up to the ceiling.
I take a moment to look at him properly. My eyes travel the contours of his muscles, taking in how big he really is compared to me. His biceps are thicker than my thighs. I like it. I likehim. There’s an ache low in my body that makes my fingers twitch as I watch him and I swallow hard.
I turn away quickly.
‘Do you want to apply it yourself?’ I ask as I wipe my hands on a cloth at the edge of the nearby bath, my voice breathy to my ears.
‘No.’
He doesn’t move. His eyes don’t open.
I clear my throat and pick up the bowl, hands shaking a little as I dip my fingers into it and locate the nearest open wound. I’m careful, my touch feather light as I cover each one from the deepest cut on his face to the smallest graze on his hand. He’s a veritable statue while I work. Not one muscle twitches, not even when I rub the stinging salve as gently as I can into the worst of the gouges.
When I’m sure I’ve covered them all, I put the mostly empty bowl back on the table.
‘It will dry quickly and seal the wounds closed while they heal, or at least until you can get a healing potion. I added something to keep any infection at bay as well.’
He says nothing. He doesn’t move.
‘I’ll…sleep in the common room,’ I murmur softly, not wanting to disturb him.
But as I move away, his hand darts out and grabs me, hauling me to the bed and turning me so that I fall on it on my back.
He leans over me, his expression closed and I shrink back, my eyes searching his for malice or violence, but instead I see something which should be just as terrifying.
Lust.
‘He must be deeper in his cups than you thought if he wants you,’ a voice that sounds like an amalgamation of Warrior and Ogdan says in my head.
I flinch at the reminder.
‘Seeing you in my clothes,’ he murmurs over me, not seeming to notice my alarm. ‘To scent you smelling of me.’ His nostrils flare. ‘It’s enough to drive even me to distraction.’
