Page 61 of Settle Down, Princess

Even if my plan had gone spectacularly badly.

I’d given gold to Rion and his men, blithely assuming that they’d be so motivated by the promise of more that they would do my bidding and get me as far away from Arik and his bloody band of men—from Khean, altogether—as I could go.

My hand shook as I raised it, the faint rim of blood around the nails confirming my suspicion. I touched the back of my head, then winced as I felt the lump there.

“Don’t touch that,” he said, reaching a hand out to stop me, but I shrank back as if whipped.

“Don’t.”

“Jessalyn, sweetness…” Gods, that pet name made my gut, already sour, turn more. “You might not remember—”

“I do.” Copping a hit to the head seemed to have done something to me because my voice no longer sounded like mine. It was like the grating of a knife on the grindstone as it was sharpened. My eyes narrowed, even though that small tightening of muscles hurt. “I remember everything.” I shifted on the bed, every muscle aching. “I remember you. Letting me think I could escape, then all of you showing up at the castle gates to escort me to my fate.”

He flinched at that, and I absorbed that with satisfaction.

“But then I actually escaped and you—”

“Killed every man who’d touched you.” His lips thinned down to a line. “And we’d do so again, that I promise.”

“Left me hanging on the rope those bastards used to truss me up like a pig carcass.” I was talking the way an angry cat did when their ears flattened to their skulls and their tails whipped from side to side. “You…” My head shifted sideways and that eased the ache slightly. “You beat me.”

His head whipped back at that, as if it was him that had been hit, not me.

“I smacked your impudent arse—”

“After those men had knocked me unconscious.”

“I needed to teach you a lesson—”

“With your cock?” My lips twisted into the world’s ugliest smile. “Was there a special message to be gained from sucking on the tip, something I could only learn from swallowing your seed?”

He stopped then, the muscle in his jaw jumping in time with my now rapid heartbeat. Those eyes were filled with the bluest of fire, right before he shook his head sharply.

“I didn’t know you were hurt—”

“Not that you bothered to check.”

“—but you won’t be again.” He nodded once, twice, as he considered his vow. “Never again, Jessalyn. No one will lay a hand on you without your permission. And if you knew how few women could say that in this country, you’d be thanking me.”

“I’d rather clean my own arse with my tongue, like a cat.”

The door opened then, and the others spilled inside. Roan carried a large copper bath, Creed and Silas toting buckets of steaming water. They stopped when they took in the tableau before them. As I looked at them, I realised something. I wasn’t in a carriage, nor the inn, nor lying on a bedroll under a tree. I was lying on someone’s bed, in a room painted palest sage green, and the light streaming in through the windows revealed a pretty rural scene beyond.

“You’re awake…” Silas blinked as if he couldn’t believe his own words.

“And angry.” Creed frowned, looking at me, then Arik. “What the hell did you do?”

“How?” Roan stepped forward. “We just stepped out to get her bath ready and…” He shook his head and forced himself to smile, stepping toward me to sink to his knees beside the bed. “How are you, Trouble?” His smile was a fragile thing, wavering already. “You scared the shit out of us, I don’t mind saying. First, disappearing like that, and second, passing out in our arms. Let's have less of that from now on, yes?”

“So you’re awake.” An older woman swung through the door. Her long hair was dyed a harsh red and the skin around her eyes creased as she smiled and looked me over, then turned to the others. “Didn’t I tell you so?”

“You did, Mother Marian,” Creed said.

“But…” She sniffed the air like an animal, then frowned. “The air in here has turned sour and not just from the stink of the lot of you.” Her focus shifted to Arik. “What did you do? I told you to watch the girl, not upset her.”

“I did as you asked.” His response was abrupt and so was his withdrawal as he twisted away from the bed and its occupant. Those long legs had him at the door in a few strides, but he gripped the edge of the door for a second before he actually left. “I’ll take my ‘stink’ elsewhere, so it doesn’t interfere with the healing.”

“Probably for the best,” this Mother Marian said, a wry smile curving her lips as he walked out.

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