Page 34 of A Spell of Heart & Havoc

But rather than come at me again, the orc felt the dagger’s handle, wincing, then thudded off into the woods. As he disappeared from sight, he growled, “You better watch your back, little dove…”

Silence on the forest road. Except for birdcalls in the trees and a breeze’s whisper through their leaves, it was quiet once again. I tried to calm my racing heart, slow my breathing. That felt unpleasantly real. An echo of a time when I’d been the one attacking somebody on a wooded road, roles reversed. Trying to ignore the memory and the flashing pain in my collarbone, I turned to check on Dove.

A mass of scented hair, road-dusted clothes, and warm skin threw itself onto me, arms squeezing around my neck. Surprised, I lost my balance. One moment, I was bewildered, standing in the middle of the road, and the next I found myself laid flat in the dirt, arms full of Dove. With a startled “oof!!” she’d fallen with me—on top of me, to be exact—and I groaned as my injuries were rattled.

Then I looked up.

Dove’s deep brown eyes were close, so close to me. Her mouth felt closer still. She’d propped herself up on her arms, and I was suddenly hyperaware of every inch along her body that touched mine. Stomach, hips, thighs, knees… we were frozen together. My nipples tightened, and I was thankful for the thick, sturdy leather of my jerkin. The pain in my collarbone faded away.

We lay in the empty road, breathing each other’s air. We were nearer than we’d ever been. It felt magnificent, wrong, right, even as blood dripped inside my shirt. Dove’s body was a heavy, comforting weight over mine. She blinked slowly, gaze transfixed on mine.

And then our mouths met. A tentative kiss that turned instantly, fiercely, into something more. Her lush lips were my entire world, and I savored the feel of them, losing myself to the sensation of Dove. I tasted apple and desperate need, and I matched her intensity, feeling everything and thinking nothing. My arms went around her, holding her even more tightly against the length of me. I felt her legs open up, falling to either side of my hips as I tugged her closer.

Her mouth was hot on mine. Deliciously soft. When she whimpered as I gently bit her full lower lip, my mind fritzed out. She moved against my body lightly. I had the wild, insane urge to spank her.

You can’t spank proper ladies on the road, in broad daylight, some feverish part of my brain insisted, and I felt a laugh bubbling up. What was happening??

A burst of pain blossomed at my neck as Dove shifted in my arms, and the full ache of my injury came rushing back. Our kiss broke off as an agonized hiss escaped my lips. Dove propped herself on one arm again, a worried frown appearing as she looked over my bloody shirt.

“You’re hurt!” she said, moving back to sit next to me, and my empty hands ached at the loss of her curves.

I slowly sat up, groaning. “Eh, just a scratch.”

“A scratch! You nut, there’s blood everywhere. We need to get you to a healer,” Dove said as she got to her feet, brushing off her skirts quickly before holding out a hand to help me up.

Painful as the wound was, I knew from experience that I’d be feeling it much more if anything dire had been sliced. Stiv had been careful with his aim. Though it chilled me to think how close the blade had been to my throat.

Or maybe that was the blood loss.

Once she’d hauled me up, Dove busied herself with tucking two clean handkerchiefs against where the worst of the gash seemed to be. Instructing me to hold the wad of cloth there, she gathered my horse from where he’d wandered a little down the path.

“I don’t need a healer. It’s not deep. What we need is to get you off the road,” I said, taking the reins from her and trying to look confident while wobbling slightly. She raised one eyebrow. “Seriously, it’s fine. And we’re almost back to the manor. The priory’s too far.”

Dove opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off. “Look, let’s just get there. It’s no more than a ten-minute ride if we take my horse together. I promise I can stitch myself up as well as the priory’s healers could. And if it turns out to be worse than I think, we can always have Petra or one of the other servants ride for help. Okay?”

“Not okay, you stubborn ass,” she said, holding one stirrup to help me up into the saddle. She looked around at the trees surrounding us, worry etching deeper in her face. “But I suppose… I suppose I don’t want to wait around for that terrifying orc either.”

Relieved, I said, “Exactly. Who knows if that maniac will come back? We should get off the road.”

I managed to mount up, grunting as my collarbone screamed in pain. Dove hurried onto the saddle behind me and took the reins, tsking as I grumbled. With one last look into the shadows of the forest—I sent a silent prayer to the goddess that Stiv hadn’t seen us kiss—we rode swiftly back to the Wistrallo estate.

Lightning, thankfully, had had the good sense to run home to his stables. Dove gave him a quick pat, promising to check on him after dinner, and tied both horses to a post for the stablemaster to tend to later. After sneaking through the quiet halls of the manor up to our rooms, thankfully not running into anyone, I slipped through my door before Dove had the chance to say anything.

It clicked closed, and I turned the lock. Leaning against the blessedly solid wood, I took a beat, gathering my thoughts. I could almost feel her out there still, pausing by my door, before finally her footsteps moved away and into her own rooms.

Clean cloths. Water. I moved slowly, feeling ancient, and gathered what I needed to dress the wound. Needle and thread from my pack, just in case.

I collapsed into an old armchair. Carefully unbuttoning the front of my jerkin, I hissed as the movement tugged at the cut. There was no way I’d get the buckles undone and the whole jacket off. Half-dried blood, unpleasantly sticky, coated my fingers and the top of my chest. The leather and metal kept slipping, so I gave up on that for now. Teeth gritted, I braced myself to remove the handkerchiefs from where they’d begun to dry on the wound.

A knock sounded at my door—the interior one, connected to Dove’s bedroom. I ignored it. She rapped again, more insistent this time.

I groaned. “If you come in here, I swear—”

The door swung open, and Dove’s worried face appeared. “Just checking that you haven’t passed out. Mother would rain curses on me if I killed my bodyguard after only a few days.”

“Har, har. I’ll try to smear some blood on the furniture before I go, make it really embarrassing,” I said, leaning back in my chair with a sigh. Just resting. I’ll definitely continue in a moment.

Dove moved closer, and I eyed her warily. “That looks a right mess,” she murmured, studying me as she chewed on her lip. “I should help you.”