“The ladies of the village have taught me about what is expected of me, so let’s get this done, shall we?” Her tone allowed for no nonsense. She retrieved a pair of leather riding gloves and pulled them on as she set the oil down on a nearby table.

“Don’t trust yourself to touch us with your bare hands, Princess?” Arik asked.

All of us frowned at him, waiting for the bastard to realise what the hell he was doing, baiting her.

“Trust?” Her eyebrow curved upwards. “I guess the urge to wrap my hands around your throat and choke you until your face turns purple is a pressing one, but no. Have no fear. I will not be overcome with lust by the prospect of massaging oil into your manly chests.”

She might not, but my body had other ideas.

“I wear gloves rather to help me to manage my revulsion.” She poured the oil into the palm of her glove. “Vomiting all over the floor of this very nice tent really won’t do.”

“You weren’t feeling nauseous last time, lass…”

Arik was an idiot. A total fucking idiot who’s head I would shove into the nearest latrine once this farce was done. He could breathe in other people’s shit rather than constantly speaking it. But whatever he had to say, it was cut off the moment her hand slapped down on his chest and then smeared across it.

That’s when I recognised the scent.

Each family made their own oils, perfuming them with different floral extracts to make them more attractive, but I wasn’t catching the scent of roses or lavender right now. The harsh blast of horse liniment hit my nose, and that’s what had Arik gasping. When we were still cadets, trainers had pinned us down and worked the bloody awful stuff into our thighs or shoulders when we were unsuccessful at masking we had an injury. Probably because the cure was far worse than the disease. It burned like the fires of hell when it touched your skin, the older cadets laughing as you could only suck in one breath, then another, as the wave of chemical heat tore through you.

Just like it did Arik right now.

“Horse liniment?” Roan chuckled. “That’s bloody… Oh dear mother of all the gods.”

She slapped her spare hand down on his chest, my brother’s voice going to a sharp squeak as her palm slid across one poor unsuspecting nipple. Roan couldn’t make out another word, just little high-pitched whines. The oil left his skin looking red raw and angry everywhere it touched, as she massaged the two of them with all the finesse of a drill sergeant. But the two of them gleamed, just as required. Because rather than using a carrier oil that would soak quickly into the skin, this seemed to sit on the surface, burning all the hotter.

“Is this the penance we’re to pay?” Creed stepped forward, ready to take his licks. “If so, I pay it gladly. Whatever it takes to make things up to you, lass.”

Jessalyn spared him a single look, then turned her eyes back to the other two, moving around them, spreading the toxic brew over their shoulders, down their arms, then across their backs until the two of them were red and gleaming, like a drop of blood. When it came Creed’s time, you’d have thought he’d have shied away. We all knew how harsh the burn of horse liniment was, and the sharp stink of it made clear what it was, but instead he sank down to his knees. He gazed up into her eyes and waited for his sentence to be carried out.

She paused for just a second, which gave me hope, but that was as quickly dashed as well. What she hoped all along, I’m sure. The Jessalyn of before the night with the bandits would never have done this, but right now, she poured the oil into her palm with a decisive air and then rubbed it into his skin.

Something I’d experienced before.

Pleasure and pain, they were the two sides of the same coin, so when she was finished anointing Creed, I stepped forward.

“Seeking to cause me pain, Trouble?” I asked, the scent of her still apparent above the stink of the liniment. I watched her eyes widen as they finally met mine, glad for that attention. “You can’t hurt me with that.”

“You think so?” That cocked hip, that hard gaze, I sucked up every detail, unable to look away, because even though she was so obviously angry, at least she was looking at me. She was reacting and I could see under that cool mask she’d erected. “I spoke to Mother Marian and Hazel. They assured me this oil would burn as fiercely as a thousand suns, without causing any permanent damage, of course.”

“Shouldn’t have worried about the last bit.” I tilted my head to one side, feeling alive for the first time in days. “I can take anything you can dish out. Make it hurt, princess.”

Her title, that was a trigger word. Her whole body jerked at the sound of it. I didn’t want to piss her off, but if being polite wasn’t helping, what options did I have? I watched her pour the liquid into her gloved palm with a theatrical flair that made it easy to imagine her wielding a different weapon. A riding crop perhaps? Or even a whip. Maybe even a knife. My skin turned to goosebumps, shivering in anticipation, but she didn’t string the wait out, slapping her hand down on my chest.

Gods above…

Whatever the mothers had done, they’d ensured the oil lived up to its claims. Her touch always burned me, but this was something on a whole other level. A small grunt, that’s all I got out, as every nerve ending started to scream at the same time.

Burning, that’s what it assured me was happening, I was burning alive. But at least I felt alive now, rather than the grey, formless ennui of the past few days. I let out some rapid pants, then grabbed her hand by the wrist. She frowned as I dragged her palm across my chest, forcing it to caress every single muscle as I stared into her eyes.

She was touching me, I wanted her to acknowledge that. Jessalyn had spent her time concocting a punishment designed for me and my brothers. If she really didn’t give a damn about us, she would have done a slapdash job of oiling us up with nothing more than cooking oil and wandered off without a look backwards. But a woman that was inspired to punish us was a woman who might be convinced that we had served our penance well and could find it in her heart to forgive us. So I forced her hand to map the entire breadth of my front, right before I stopped her to go back for more oil.

“Roan had tears in his eyes. Arik cursed me in a very creative and offensive way,” she said, peering up at me. “But you… you like this.”

“I love it,” I corrected, “because when you’re touching me, punishing me, I know you give a shit. It forces you to focus on me and me alone, and that’s all I want. See me. See what you’ve done.” Blood was rushing to my extremities, making me glow as red as a tomato. “You can do a whole lot more and I’ll endure it all, because when you make me pay for every idiot thing I’ve done, hope remains.”

She snatched her hand back then, staring at me and then the rest of the pack, as if seeing us for the first time. My brothers stopped cursing and stepped closer, forcing her back.

“You’ve had your fun, Jessalyn,” Arik said. “Now what?”