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Good. He’s awakeandaware. I move in close and press the back of my hand to his forehead. Cool and dry. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I have been attacked by a fanghound.” His voice is weak, and his throat sounds scratchy.
“So, that’s what those things are called.” I help him sip some water. “A fitting name for alien wolves.”
“How did you fend them off?”
I shrug a non-answer. My pocket knife is staying secret for now. “Fending off your guards was the real challenge. Why did you send them away when you were seriously wounded?”
“You had a dagger over my heart.” He grins. “Well played, Sloane.”
“I wouldn’t have killed you,” I confess.
“I know.”
Heknew? “Then why didn’t you call my bluff?”
Dexari's eyes meet mine. “Perhaps I wanted to see what would happen between us after my guards were gone.”
I sidestep thebetween usbit. “You almost croaked, that’s what happened.”
Whencroakedtranslates, he chuckles, then winces slightly. “We had a nice conversation first.”
“Glad you find it amusing that I spent the entire night freaked out, wondering whether you would live or die.” There’s no real bite to my words.
Dexari's expression turns serious. “I sent my guards away because I trusted you to care for me.”
His words catch me off guard. “Why? I'm a stranger. An alien. Yourprisoner. For all you know, I could be plotting to take you out and throw your kingdom into turmoil.”
“Are you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
I roll my eyes. “Of course not. But that's not the point.”
“Then whatisthe point, Sloane?”
I hesitate, struggling to put my thoughts into words and failing. “The point is...you shouldn't trust me. It's not safe.”
“Not safe for me, or for you?” he asks softly.
His words hit too close to home. I look away, unable to meet his questioning gaze. “Both, I guess.”
“You saved my life when the fanghounds attacked.” His hand reaches out, gently cupping my cheek. The touch sends a jolt through me, and I find myself leaning into it despite my better judgment. “That earns my trust, whether you want it or not.”
This conversation is getting too personal for my comfort, so I pull away and change the subject. “Shortly before your fever broke, you said some things I didn’t understand. If you trust me, then tell me something.”
“Anything,” he says, and I believe him.
“What are orc spikes?”
Chapter 23
Dexari
I lieon the forest floor, the morning light filtering through the dense canopy, casting shadows across my body.
The pain from my fanghound wound throbs, a dull yet constant reminder of my narrow escape from death. Each breath sends a sharp twinge through my side, and I fight to keep my discomfort from showing on my face.
Sloane sits with her back against a gnarled tree trunk, her eyes fixed on me, waiting for an answer to her question. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze fills the silence between us.
