Page 88 of Bane of the Wild Hunt

“Tell me if I hurt you,” I told her as I began to press a little harder between her brows and over her sinuses.

“I am stronger than I look,” she murmured even as she winced from the pain of pressure being relieved.

“That you are,” I could not deny that. “But I am fey. Your skin and bones are as fragile as eggshells to me.”

“And yet this is the most gentle touch I’ve ever felt,” she maintained, and I could not speak for a moment.

“The people who did this to you are going to suffer.”

Nuala’s brows puckered, and she swallowed thickly with emotion, but she did not cry.

“They did it because they hated me. I frightened them and took away their power. I will not feel sad about that. To feel sadwould be like letting them win. But I do want them to suffer. I want them toscreamuntil their throats are raw. I want them to wish for death. To beg for it.”

I had hesitated in my ministrations to listen and now tipped her head forward. One finger under her chin turned her head in my direction to meet her one-eyed gaze.

“I take care of what is mine, and you have committed yourself to me. So their screams and pleas will be yours. You will taste their futile tears and wear their broken bones for a crown. That is a promise, my little Seer.”

She was clean and relaxed, and she seemed to be feeling stronger. Perhaps the pain medication had simply kicked in more fully, but she was able to stand on her own after I’d lifted her upright to dry her.

Once her bony body had been towelled off, I lifted her out of the basin for the last time and carried her over to the plush bench in front of my vanity and mirror. I was sure to set her down facing away from her reflection and then tugged a tapestry off the wall to drape over the frame containing the mirror.

I stood behind her and spent a moment squeezing the towel through her hair and rubbing it over her head. I had oiled and conditioned her so thoroughly during her bath that my comb passed through her hair easily.

I almost asked her if it was alright to cut it but bit back the inquiry. She had said she did not want to have to make any choices so I would make them for her until she felt like she could take back her autonomy.

“I am going to cut your hair. Much of it is dead, and it will do the rest of it good,” I advised her instead.

“Do as you wish,” she agreed, her eyes closed and her head tilted back, completely lulled by the comb.

I found my scissors in the vanity behind me and began to examine her long, black-and-red hair. It was down to the middle of her back where it grew choppy and thin. After a few moments, I’d found where the length of it was mostly healthy and chopped it just below her shoulders. Watching the strands fall to the floor hurt my heart. I had been growing my own hair for a long time, and Aodhan always kept his hair long because he knew I preferred it.

I retrieved the white-and-blue dress Darragh had brought for her and found it was a pretty silk and linen gown with long, loose sleeves. The front was low cut with a high slit in the side, but I knew from experience it was conservative for Feurin culture. I usually loved their style, loved the casual glimpses of brown skin, but I already knew I would be dressing her differently in the future.

I brought it over to Nuala who reached out to touch the material before I could lift it over her head. I let her press her crooked, unbending fingers against the dress, and her mouth parted around an inhale. Her face was too swollen to know for sure, but I was sure she was pleased.

“It is so soft and smooth,” she murmured.

“When you are feeling better, I will take you into the city and shop for you, but it will suffice for now,” I said.

The flowy dress hung quite loose over her bony figure, but she already looked like a different creature than the one I’d brought into the tent. Not only was she clean and dressed nicely, but there was life in her again.

“You look lovely,” Carrick said as he stood up straight when I stepped through the curtains with the little witch in my arms. I was relieved to see he had been setting out plates on the short table in front of my lounging couch.

Nuala’s brows rose at the compliment, her cracked lips pressing together before she looked to me for guidance.

“You can trust Carrick. He will not hurt you or abuse any of the rules. He is kind and safe,” I reassured her.

Nuala looked relieved, and I felt her exhale before she gave a nod to Carrick in thankful acknowledgment.

I could feel my uncle looking at me in suspicion, but I did not meet his gaze as I carried Nuala over to the couch. He would not understand my methods, but she trusted me, just as he’d said, so I would handle Nuala and her trauma the way that was best for us both.

I deposited my Seer on the couch and sat next to her. Carrick attempted to hand her a plate of food, but I took it first and then set it in her lap for her. I could feel his eyes burning into me knowingly, and I knew a lecture would be coming, but I focused on Nuala as she began to eat.

“Your stomach will require some time to adjust to food again so just go slow,” I advised her, and she nodded.

Carrick set a jug of water in front of her, but she did not touch it until I handed it to her to wash down the mouthful of food she had chewed carefully. Too carefully. I realized that her mouth was probably in the same shape as the rest of her body.

“Teeth,” I demanded, demonstrating what I wanted by lifting my own lips at her to expose my canines.

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