Page 68 of The Cursed and the Broken
He scooted closer, tilting my chin up with one finger. “I am better than okay. The wound is gone. After losing so much blood I’d expected to be weak, but I feel great. I can feel your magic lingering inside me. Your fire burns through my veins, giving me strength.”
I blinked several times. “You can feel it? I’d thought I was just imagining it but for the briefest moment last night, I swore I felt a glimmer of yours, too.”
He nodded. “I told you we’d pull through. We make a good team, Freckles.” He tugged my waist, pulling me gently into his arms. Left with no room, I was forced to wrap my legs around him as he lifted me into his lap.
My body sparked at his touch, my breasts pressing against his chest. I still wore the simple shift, now streaked with blood and grime and, beneath the crusted blood on his own skin, his abs were hard and ridged against my body. My breath hitched as I looked into his brown eyes, the gold flickering dangerously now.
Placing a featherlight kiss to my brow, he stroked the planes of my cheeks, exploring every sweep, every hollow and the dip of my lips. His fingers swept down my neck and under my shift, the pad of his thumb tracing the place my wound had been. Nothing but smooth skin remained and the glimmer of a white scar. We both wore a scar from last night.
With a crooked grin he said, “Seeing as we’ve been in this tub for hours on end, maybe we should utilise it.”
A soft laugh escaped my lips. I wasn’t even sure why I was laughing. Maybe it was just the elation of being alive—the sheer stubbornness we shared and the refusal to allow the other to stay hurt.
He stared at me with something like awe on his face. “What?” I asked nervously.
Dante shook his head, a dimple emerging on his cheek. “I’ve never heard a more beautiful sound.”
I snorted, flicking the end of his nose playfully. “Okay, lover boy, I think you’re still a little disoriented from blood loss. Let’s get you washed up.”
He lifted me in his arms without another word and I yelped, squeezing my legs harder around his midriff. The other dimple popped into view as he set me on the edge of the hollow, pressing himself against me before leaning down.
His hand slid dangerously high up my thigh and his thumb circled the area lazily. “What are you doing?” I breathed, my core instantly responding to his touch.
He leaned closer, still circling that damned thumb as he shot me a feline grin. The next second I heard something scrape against the ground. The bath stopper. Ugh, he was such a tease.
“I’ll be right back,” he announced, pulling away suddenly and loping towards the door.
“Where are you going?” I barked. My core was tight and I had to squeeze my legs together to quell the rising need. Was I deranged? What kind of madwoman felt like this after everything that had happened?
Passion, I realised. Elation. Gratitude. Sheer dumb luck at both of us living. We were alive and I planned to make the most of it while I still had blood in my veins. To make every moment count.
“Be patient, Freckles,” he purred, disappearing from the room.
I sat there for what felt like an eternity, twiddling my thumbs, even considering satisfying my needs. The morning was fresh, despite the sunlight filtering through and my arms prickled. Irritated, I jammed them under my armpits, trying to warm myself.
Just as I was about to storm out, a swarm of maids bustled in, each offering me a polite “How-do-you-do” or a “Good morning, my lady”. All of them trying vainly to control the wide eyes and gasps of shock upon seeing puddles of blood in the tub.
I waved a hand awkwardly and found myself dragged into the tub, a few bucket loads poured over my head. I squawked when the water drenched my skin, but at least it wasn’t icy. The women massaged my head, plucking sticks and leaves from my hair as they scrubbed at the caked blood and dirt over my body. They kept my shift on as Dante was present, but the white material did little to hide my breasts.
Dante popped his head around the corner as they splashed bucket after bucket of water over the tub, flushing all the grime from the surface—andme. They filed out one by one, presumably to bring fresh water for a bath.
“You didn’t think to warn me?” I hissed as he stepped back in. I covered myself with my arms but, truthfully, I was more worried about looking like a drowned rat.
He assessed me from head to toe and laughed as he plucked a slivered apple from the tray and popped it into his mouth. I watched with narrowed eyes as he licked the honey from his lips. “Don’t worry about the maids,” he drawled, selecting a handful of morsels before approaching me. “They’ve seen blood plenty of times before.”
I raised a brow. “Just how often do you nearly die in your quarters?”
His eyes glinted. “There have been incidents in the past where I’ve needed stitching up. But I’ve never been at a lady’s mercy before. A treacherous witch at that.”
“Treacherous!?” Frowning, I poked a finger at his chest. “The day is young. I can still stab you or set you on fire.”
“But you won’t.” He popped a date into his mouth, studying me. “Fig?”
My stomach grumbled before I could reject his offering, so I snatched it from his hand eagerly. I moaned at the explosion of sweetness and Dante twitched beside me.
“Don’t do that unless you’re prepared for the consequences,” he said slowly.
“What, enjoy my food?” I teased, rolling my tongue over my lips. For good measure I plucked a slice of pear from the tray, taking extra care to lick the honey slowly from my fingers. “Mmm.”
