Page 36 of Hunting the Warlord's Daughter

Aral squeezed her hand harder. Did he think she was nervous? Or was he? She squeezed him back.

The healer applied the nano-drops. Tingling and itching began as the specifically programmed and targeted meds went to work, knitting, stretching, and healing. Her eyes watered and stung.

Aral was stroking her arm now, sending ripples of sensation up her arm and everywhere. “Does it hurt?”

Oh, yes, terribly. You’ll need to hold me very close.“It’s like pinpricks.”

“The sensation will soon go away,” the healer said. “Blink. Keep blinking. Now dry your eyes and keep them closed.”

Someone dabbed at her tears. A man’s hand. Fates. Aral was drying her tears, not the healer. “Keep your eyes closed,” his rumbling voice ordered her.

“I wouldn’t dream of opening them.” Although it would almost be worth it to see Aral acting as a tender nursemaid. He moved the cloth across her cheekbone, down along her jaw—following her tears, or a little extracurricular exploration? He repeated the procedure on the opposite side, so carefully—tenderly. She moved a little closer, offering him a better angle.Here, Aral. And… oh! Here too. The cloth dabbing at her hesitated then resumed.

She listened to the rhythm of his breathing, smelled the warm, spicy-sweet scent of his skin. As he tended to her, blotting her tears, she imagined him moving that cloth over her body…It was soapy, and she was wet, and he was washing her, moving the cloth along her throat, between her aching breasts, circling them. Then lower, over her stomach, water dribbling, his hand slipping between her thighs…

Her pulse throbbed in her neck, her chest, and a lot of other places she’d like for his touches to go.

“The Mawndarr men know how to use their charms to get what they want.”Sabra’s long-ago warning reverberated in her mind.“Don’t be fooled.”

Wren had been fooled before. Her guardians had kept her in the dark, had decided what she should know—and when. That was over with. Done.Shemade the decisions now.

She decided she wanted Aral.

The healer’s melodic voice interrupted. “Time to open your eyes!”

My eyes have already been opened.

Wren blinked. Aral’s face was the first thing she saw. His lips held the remnants of a grin, but as soon as their eyes met, he snapped back to his usual, duty-above-all expression. Though his eyes were hooded, and very dark, only a sliver of blue was visible. It sent a blast of heat all the way to her toes, lighting up everything in between.

“Has your vision improved?” he asked.

She cracked a smile. “Exponentially.” Fates, his dimple begged a kiss. “Now, let me see how good my distant vision is, since that’s what we came here to fix.” She went to the window, inhaling the scene with her eyes. “I can see all the way to the horizon. And the mountains. Those weird little trees.” And the striations of clouds in all the shades of orange that possibly existed. Her glasses had helped with seeing far-off objects, but they were never this clear. Growing up, she used to think that it was just as well she was nearsighted, else she’d envision freedom and pine for what she could never have.” Then the world opened up in ways she’d never expected.

Emotion choked her up. She waved at her face and laughed. “Everything’s blurry again.”

* * *

Outside, under the watchful eyes of the pair of warrior-priestesses, they holstered their weapons. Wren avoided making eye contact with the brawny blond sister.

Kaz joined them. Turning to Aral, she clicked her heels together and stood straighter. “The ship is refueled and provisioned. But there’s unpacking to do.” She tapped the corner of one of her eyes. “Wren, can we safely say that excellent vision is another one of your superpowers now?”

Wren grinned. “I can’t wait to find out. The procedure went very well.”

“Before we go, I have a gift for the sanctuary.” Kaz reached for her earrings and removed them, dropping them one at a time into Wren’s hand. With a rueful smile, she carefully added the sparkling red diamonds to the hodgepodge of other offerings.

Wren stepped forward, pushing on phantom glasses. “But you loved those earrings.”

“They were a gift from Bolivarr. We argued before he left. I always regretted the way we left things.” Her manner was as crisp as always, but her voice was huskier. “Since he was here once, it seems right for the earrings to be here too. It’s time for me to move on.” She cast a moist gaze at Aral. “No more waiting, right?”

A pointed look passed between the pair.

Together they headed to the front gate. “By the stars of Ara Ana go, my child,” the blond sister told Wren, a slight tremble in her voice. She towered over Wren, her hands pressed together, adoration in her green eyes. “I will pray for your wellbeing. May the Goddess guide you, always.”

Wren sighed. “Sister, I thank you, but you have mistaken me with someone else.”

The blonde shook her head, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You have your mother’s eyes. In them, I can see the echo of her soul.”

CHAPTERTWENTY

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