Page 37 of The Anointed's Paladin

We settled down to sleep, the evidence of the morning light faintly illuminating some of the far walls.

I started my routine process of cleaning my clothes and stopped when I found blood on my breastplate.

I frowned. It was on the outside. I checked my cloak and found a dark stain there as well. I sprinkled some white cleaning powder on the cloak and rubbed in some water, thinking.

I wasn’t hurt. Kaine’s hurried retreat to the corner clicked into place. I hadn’t seen his fall initially but had heard an impact before he reached me.

I walked cautiously towards him. He was tucked into a small corner of rock, hunched over. His cloak wrapped tightly around him. His pale blue eyes stared at me as I came closer.

“I found blood on my chest plate,” I said when I reached him. This close, I could see he looked paler than normal. His breathing was laboured, sweat beading on his forehead.

“Must have missed a spot after all, then.”

I crouched beside him and twitched my fingers, wanting to touch him to assess the damage. Even without that, I could tell it was bad. His body was shutting down. I could see his pulse on his neck, jittery and too fast.

I hesitated. This could be it. I could end him right here. Or I could just walk away, leaving him to his fate. Nidori would be free. It should be an easy choice. The right thing for a monster slayer to do.

Our eyes met, and there was fear in his gaze. He’d never seemed so small to me as he did here.

His expression settled, resigned, and he closed his eyes, shoulders slumping.

“Go on, then,” he muttered, solidifying my decision. He was so sure I was here to kill him. I wanted to show him not everyone was a bad person.

“You look like shit. Let me see,” I said gruffly, settling down.

He sniffed, some of the tension leaving his body as it became clear I was going to help. “I’m fine.”

“You could show me now,” I said firmly, “or I can wait until you pass out. I’d say you’ve got maybe ten, fifteen minutes. But that’s not a good option. Lots more to fix, and I’m limited on my healing right now.”

“Some… Paladin.” He panted, trying to smile but just wincing instead. “Fine,” he said, reaching towards me. His hand fisted into my shirt, yanking me forwards, but I regained my balance and reached for his shoulders, helping him lie back. I summoned some light and unbuttoned his shirt, then used my magic to assess the damage. It wasn’tpretty. The damage was deep enough to reach his lungs. There was smashed bone from his ribs causing further damage with every breath. The dark fabric of his shirt was soaked in blood, and he grimaced as I peeled it off his chest. The blood was from a few bits of broken skin, but I knew the true damage was beneath, only visible by a mass of bruising. The movement of his chest was all wrong, parts moving down when they should be moving up.

“What was your plan with this?” I met his eyes, raising my eyebrows.

He attempted a shrug. “Fix it, with your help, of course,” he said, causing my jaw to tick. Stubborn idiot.

I placed my hand on his forehead and sank my healing powers into his lungs, fixing them so he could breathe properly again. Before, I could have healed everything in a second. Now I had to be strategic about healing. The non-essential stuff would have to be done without magic. I went to my supplies, grabbing what I needed before returning. I glanced back at him, trying to imagine why he’d gone and hidden in a corner when he was so hurt.

He hadn’t wanted us to see his injuries. My gaze softened at his hunched position. When had he learned that hiding was his best choice when hurt? That he couldn’t show any weakness?

The memory of him flinching from me returned, with new context. He wasn’t flinching because ofme; he was expecting pain. Maybe there was more to him than just an arrogant asshole.

“Looks like it all worked out.” He managed a smile as I approached him. His breathing had steadied, and he looked marginally better.

“It’ll be all right now,” I said quietly. “I’ve got to clean the wounds to see how bad it is. Then I’ll dress the open parts.”

I paused, but nothing happened. Perhaps he didn’t realise I was asking.

“May I?” I asked.

His eyes met mine, surprise flashing on his face for a second before he had it under control. He nodded, almost imperceptibly.

On to the scrapes on his chest. I started by mixing the dattol powder into the water. The strong, medicinal smell was comforting, and it was excellent at cleaning off dried blood.

I poured the water over the wound. He continued staring ahead, expression tight, as I rinsed his skin. How many times had he dealt with something like this by himself?

He was trembling slightly as I brought a soft cloth to his skin, wiping it clean, avoiding the open skin. I was near his collarbone when I glanced up.

I rustled my wings uncomfortably. “Sorry. If I scared you,” I said, turning back to his bloody chest.

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