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“You’re burning up.”
No, please gods no.She wanted to cry. Wanted to grab onto his arm and beg him not to throw her out into the cold. To plead her case and convince him she wasn’t useless, but darkness claimed her before Arianna could beg for anything.
WHEN ARIANNA opened her eyes, the warm afternoon sun was pouring through their small window. She squinted, turned her head, and pain exploded behind her eyes.
She winced and rubbed her temples, trying to work the headache down to a throb before examining the room.
Rion was gone, likely tending to his warriors. He’d not woken her, and she vaguely wondered if he’d slept in the bed as well. She was a slave, not to be a burden on her master. Even if he did appreciate her for saving his life, she needed to tread cautiously. Rion was still The Demon and the images of the men he’d killed was still fresh in her memories.
Arianna placed her feet on the floor one at a time. The fire was low, but she didn’t have the strength to feed it. Instead, she clung to the wall and slowly, one foot at a time, crawled along it toward the bathroom.
After relieving herself and struggling with the door, Arianna headed for the kitchen.
Zylah’s jar of herbal remedies sat on the countertop. Arianna blinked against the sun shining through the kitchen window, squinting to focus through the pounding in her head. She reached for the jar, but the dizziness returned, forcing her to lean over and gather her bearings.
The front door creaked open and a heartbeat later, warm hands rested lightly on her shoulders.
“What are you doing?” An irritated tone, like the one her father had given her the night he’d caught her training after she’d broken her wrist.
“Making tea.” He didn’t reply. “For the fever.”
Rion peered over her shoulder and it was a struggle to resist leaning into his warmth. He seemed to study the jar and its contents.
“Keep your hands in front of you.”
Arianna gasped when Rion placed one arm beneath her knees and supported her back with the other. He lifted her from the ground, her world spinning with the movement.
Despite wanting to grab for his neck, she kept her hands close to her torso and buried her head in his chest.
His scent hit her harder than she expected.
That herbal blend devoid of blood or gore. That earthen scent rooted in flame. She couldn’t resist breathing him in before he set her back on his bed.
She curled up under the blankets and Rion returned to the kitchen. Arianna listened as he unscrewed and re-tightened the jar. As he poured water into a small kettle. A cupboard opened and shut. Rion headed toward the fireplace and hung the kettle above the flames.
She studied him. He watched the fire.
“My sister made me tea when I was a child.”
An awkward silence stretched between them.
“Thank you.” She wished she could have told him it wasn’t his job to care for her. That she should be the one serving him, but she didn’t have the energy for it. Nor the energy to fear whatever repercussions were sure to follow.
When he finished, Rion set the steeping tea on the table beside the bed. “If you need anything else, wait for me to come back.”
IT WAS dark outside before she woke again. Rion knelt before the fireplace and the sweet aroma of stew drifted through the cabin.
Silently, he poured her a bowl and stood beside the bed to hand it to her.
With a growling stomach, Arianna sat up and reached for the dish. She brushed his fingertips and when their eyes met, her heart jumped in response.
What was that look in his gaze?
A blush rose to her cheeks, but he turned away, served himself, and remained by the fireplace.
Both ate in silence.
With her stomach still queasy, Arianna ate slowly, but Rion didn’t rush her, didn’t look at her really, though, by the way he’d angled his body, she could tell he was watching her every move.
