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He removed the dagger from the fire and approached her. As he kneeled in front of her, he tried to keep his eyes focused on her wound, but he cursed himself as they followed the scars on her skin. How did she get those? Who hurt her? His blood ran cold at the thought.
From her well-defined abs to the cleft in her breast, the white patches of skin ranged in size from long gashes to tiny slices.
Her skin broke out in gooseflesh as a cool gust of wind swept through the tunnel. Not wanting her to be any more uncomfortable than she was about to be, he reached for the fur pelt and covered her with it.
Looking him straight in the eye, she said, “Do it.”
His eyes moved to the glowing dagger, then back to her. Something was missing... Not wanting her to feel alone in her pain, he reached for her hand. “I’m with you in this, okay?”
Her eyes widened at the contact as he laced his fingers with hers, and she nodded as she firmed her grip with his.
Krieger took a deep breath and lowered the hot blade onto her skin.
With pinched features, she groaned and tightened her hold on his hand as the heat swept through her. He held it there, making sure it was done right so he would only have to do it once. Her skin sizzled and smoked as the smell of burning flesh filled the air.
Her grip on his hand tightened as her back arched. She sucked in a breath and let it out through her tightened lips. It was hard to see her this way—vulnerable, wounded, and in pain. Only hours before, she had been a brave warrior who’d fought with nobility.
He removed the blade. Her breaths were heavy as sweat trickled down her forehead. “Do... t-the back.”
As she leaned forward, he let go of her hand and draped his arm over her chest to grip her good shoulder. Warmth filled his chest as her right hand took hold of his arm. She wanted the comfort he was offering.
Her nails dug into his skin as he placed the blistering blade onto the other side of her wound. Her groans of pain seemed to resonate in the tunnel, amplifying the torture he was bestowing on her. He wanted to whisper words of comfort to her, but what was there to say? This shit was awful, and no words would make it better. He gritted his teeth as her skin sizzled.
Once he removed the blade from her skin, the tension left her body. He set the knife aside and helped her lie down on the pallet he’d made for when she was unconscious.
The muscles in her abdomen flexed with every breath she took as a single tear ran down her temple. He smoothed back her golden hair from her face as her eyes found his.
She raised her hand and said, “Thank you.”
He clutched it and nodded.
Her green eyes seemed to lose their luster as the color drained from her face, so Krieger covered her with the fur and said, “Rest now.”
After she closed her eyes, he moved back to his pack, removed a cloth, and wet it with his canteen, the contents dwindling. He made a pallet next to her and began to wipe her brow—the sweat and the tears.
She’d handled that better than he thought she would. In fact, that might have been harder for him. Never would he think to inflict harm on a woman, especially not this one; the one that saved his life, the one who intrigued him so.
He’d sworn to Eva to repay an unpayable debt, but now all he wanted to do was get to know her better.
Hell, she was braver than some men, sharp as a tack, and loyal. What she did for Everwood, for the people who inhabited it, was inspiring. She would lay down her life to protect them—today was proof of that. Who wouldn’t want to get close to someone like her?
Forget about her stubbornness or the fact she was an obvious neat freak, with all her clothes in her room, and in her pack, folded to perfection. Who does that?
Evangeline . . .
She was where he wanted to be. Even when he was burning out of his mind with fever, he’d known he wanted to be next to her...
He added more water to the cloth, folded it, and then rested it on her forehead. Her hair encircled her face, and without thinking, he found his hands intertwined in the silky strands.
Her breathing deepened and slowed. She was far away now in a different kind of valley. One filled with dreams, hopes, and enchantment. He hoped. Her body lay here in reality, but she deserved to bask in the land of imagination.
As he watched the opening of the tunnels for danger, his hand fully entangled in her hair, he fantasized about what her dream would look like and... would he be in it?
Better yet, would she want him to be?
All he knew for certain was nothing was going to stop him from trying to be the man of her dreams.
Hours later, a soft whimper startled him. Gray light still filtered into the dark tunnel as the rain pounded overhead, but it was not loud enough to drown out Eva’s soft cries.
