Page 117 of Reckless
I look away, unsure what to say. Unsure how to tell him exactly how much that meant to me. So, I settle on a soft “Thank you.”
“That sounded painful,” he says, smirking like the asshole he is.
“Well, thanking you isn’t exactly something I’m used to doing.”
“I think it’s just manners in general that you aren’t used to,” he says, starting down the path again.
He pulls me along while I shake my head at his back, aware that this is all just a distraction from the death happening behind us. “Oh, and you are so well-mannered?”
“Considering that I’ve had numerous tutors and years of education, yes, I would say so.” His voice is strained with pain. “I’ve been taught how to hold myself in court and amongst nobles. How to speak to women and—”
I snort. “You mean flirt?”
“No, that’s always come naturally, darling.”
I’ve finally caught up to walk beside him. “Does being an ass come naturally too, or is that something they taught you in the palace?”
His lips twitch as he considers my question. “Naturally. But I can’t take all the credit.” He looks me over. “You bring it out of me.”
I look away, scanning the stones as an excuse to look anywhere but at him. The terrain has grown rougher, impossibly rockier. The walls on either side of us are high and dotted with scattered hollows. Most are too small to call a cave, but my eyes snag on the mouth of one that looks promising. I vaguely wonder which one of these is home to the first queen herself.
“How’s that one?” I point.
Sweat beads on his brow; pain pulls at his mouth. When he simply nods, not offering any sort of sly comment, I know he’s in a great deal of discomfort.
The sun beats down on us as we slowly make our way to the cave. Blisters scream at me with each step as skin rubs against boot. I bite my tongue, knowing that what the Enforcer feels beside me is much worse.
Shadows drape over us when we finally step into the cave. Light seems to be swallowed up in here, making the cavern feel as though we’ve stepped into the evening.
“Sit,” I order sternly.
He keeps his eyes on mine as he obeys, lowering himself to the ground. “What are you doing, Gray?”
I crouch behind him, carefully lifting his bloody shirt to examine the wound. “What does it look like I’m doing, Azer?”
“It looks like you’re caring about me,” he says with a smirk seeping into his voice. “And it feels like you’re undressing me.”
I huff. “Don’t be too flattered. I can’t have you becoming a deadweight, now can I?”
He grunts in pain when my fingertips brush the tender skin around the wound. The smell of blood stings my nose, forcing me to take adeep breath before saying, “I don’t have anything to stitch this up with. All I can do is wash it out and wrap it.”
“Great,” he grits out. “Let’s get it over with, yes?”
“But it needs to be stitched,” I say sternly. “It could get infected.”
“We’ll be back in Ilya by tomorrow,” he says calmly. “The bandage will stop the bleeding long enough. I’ll heal myself when we get there.”
“Right.” I nod, swallowing at the sight of blood. I grip the hem of his shirt to carefully pull it over his head. He hisses when it tugs at his wound. With a gentle hand on his back, I urge him to lie on his stomach.
Back bare and stretched out before me, thick blood pools on his skin. I can barely see the slice beneath it, and the metallic scent stings my nose. “Tell me something,” I manage weakly.
“Tell you something?” His laugh is pained. “Is this really the best time for—”
“Yes,” I cut in. “It can be anything, just… just talk to me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, needing a distraction from the feel of his blood on my fingertips and the sight of it spilling over his skin. Something in the way he stills tells me he’s starting to understand.
“All right.” His voice is strained. “The truth, then?”
