Page 96 of The Endless War

He forced a smirk onto his face. “If I’m so irreplaceable, then I suppose it’s in both our best interests that you ensure this wound doesn’t decide a reversal of fortune is in order.”

She blinked, a forced smile forming on her lips as she turned her attention to the injury. “Agreed. Did Lara give you anything for the pain?”

“Yes, but I’m not taking it.” Her huffed breath of exasperation drove him to add, “It makes me tired and slow to react. I’d rather suffer the pain than sleep through someone slitting my throat.”

Zarrah was quiet for a long moment as she used the hot water to clean away the mess, and he gritted his teeth, half from the pain and half from her touch undermining the war his conscience had just won. Catching her wrist, he said, “I can do it.”

“Is there a reason you don’t want me to?”

Against his will, Keris met her gaze, her large brown eyes illuminated by the lamplight. He was used to them being filled with confidence, even though he knew it was sometimes feigned. But as he stared into their dark depths, it was uncertainty that looked back at him. Hurt.

How had they come to this? How had they gone from being so aligned in thought and feeling and purpose to barely being able to speak to one another?

Keris knew the answer.

Knew that it was trust that had allowed them to speak freely, and it was the trust between them that had suffered the greatest damage.

Which meant that trust was what they both needed to rebuild, and that required a level of honesty.

Letting go of her wrist, he swallowed hard. “I don’t want you to touch me, because I made a promise to you, and I’m coming to terms with the amount of willpower it will take to hold to it.”

Silence.

Regret threatened to drown him, because when was honesty ever a good idea?

“Do you have enough?” Her eyes flicked to his, then away before he could read their depths. “Of willpower, that is?”

“Yes.”

Zarrah’s brow furrowed; then she retrieved Lara’s salve, smearing it across the injury before moving behind him to do the same on the back of his shoulder. Her fingers brushed his lower back, and he twitched.

“What’s this scar from?”

It took him a moment to understand what she meant. “Oh, it’s from Lara. We had something of a quarrel when I first arrived in Eranahl. This one is from her, too.” He tapped the fading pink mark on his throat.

“Veliants,” she muttered as she looped fresh bandages around him, then passed him his shirt.

Though he was freezing from the draft, Keris first availed himself of both warm water and soap to scrub away the worst of the grime. He desperately needed a shave, but with no mirror and his body consumed with shivers, he’d likely cut off half his face in the process. Pulling his shirt and coat back on, he went to the window and dumped the basin of soiled water into the alley below.

“I’ll turn around,” he told her, taking a seat and rooting his gaze firmly on the wall.

But not watching only heightened his other senses. The whisper of fabric as she disrobed, the splash of water, then the scrub of a cloth against naked skin. Keris bit the insides of his cheeks and squeezed his eyes shut, memory supplying that of which his eyes were deprived.

Were there changes since he’d last looked upon her? New marks and scars from her ordeal to match the wounds inflicted on her heart and mind? He wanted to ask but instead bit his tongue.

“I’m done,” she said, going to the window to pour out the basin of water. “You should get some rest.”

“Likewise.”

She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “Later.”

Was she afraid of lowering her guard around him? Afraid he’d take advantage?

Grabbing his bag, Keris pulled out a brown bottle full of liquid. Icy fear pooled in his hands, because he remembered the dreams that had come the last time Lara had given him this. Dreams he’d been powerless to wake from and that had left him vulnerable to the world.

He took a deep breath, then measured five drops onto his tongue. “You’ll have to wake me if there is trouble,” he said, then lay on the floor, pulling his cloak over himself against the chill.

Zarrah didn’t answer.

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