Page 41 of A Chill in the Flame
“How do you know?” Ophir squirmed as fear wriggled its way into her senses. He shouldn’t know about her passage. He shouldn’t know about her bedroom. No one knew.
“Fight me later, princess. I’ll sit still for you to throw a punch if you can do me the favor of staying conscious for the next ten minutes. Can you do that?”
She attempted to glare but wasn’t sure that her eyelids were responding to her summons. The night’s stars were blinking out slowly as if the black sky was gobbling them whole. This time when he carried her, it was with a gentleness that allowed her eyes to remained fixed on the stars.
They made it to the edge of the castle when he eyed her. “Ah, shit. We can’t have a trail of blood from the beach toyour room. Hang on.”
He set her down once more and let her back rest against the custard stones of the castle’s outermost wall just before the entrance to the tunnels. He reached directly over his head and grabbed his shirt from the center of his back, pulling it off in one swift motion. His black tunic was grimy with salt and sand, but they were more worried about concealing the evidence of their entrance than risking infection. He revealed his broad chest and the demarcations of his stomach with the swift tug of cloth. If they could get safely inside, they could access whatever medicines and tonics they needed. While her makeshift tourniquet had helped to slow the blood flow, his dark shirt absorbed the pooling, telltale signs of her injury on the stone floors that might give them away.
With his shirt off, she could see how his tattoo spread from the base of his neck down one pectoral and wound its way elaborately down his arm. She opened her mouth to comment on it, but her vision swam, which weakened her resolve. Her loose grip on consciousness must have been painted clearly on in her eyes.
“Hey, none of that.” He gave her three quick taps on the face with his hand. “We had a deal, remember? You have to stay conscious.”
“I’m conscious,” she said with unconvincing slowness. She dared a glance at her hand to see its grayish pallor. It had been a particularly chilly night, and she had not been dressed for the weather even before she’d been half-drowned in the ocean. The slightest breeze set her to shivering once again.
When he picked her up this time, it was with increasing delicacy and gentleness. “Keep talking, Princess. Tell me what you were doing in the cave.”
“It’s…not…your business.”
A low growl rumbled through his throat as he navigated his way through the underground tunnels. “Tell me about your favorite food.”
“I…”
“Hey.” He jolted her against him so that her eyes blinked open rapidly. “Food. Tell me.”
She attempted to shrug, but her limbs were too heavy to move. “I like all foods.”
“Goddess damn you are unhelpful. Tell me about your first kiss.”
She smiled, though her lips were cold against her teeth. “Now that’s a good story.”
He continued moving swiftly as he maneuvered the tunnels beneath the castle. He seemed to be covering ground quickly. They were nearly to the wine cellar. “I want to hear it. What was his name?”
With the slowness of the absent, she said, “What makes you assume it was a male?”
“Well, aren’t we full of surprises. We’re almost there, Princess. Keep talking.”
The bounce and jostle told her they’d begun mounting the stairs. They should be no more than three flights away from her chambers. Somewhere in the distant reaches of her mind, she knew she had a healing tonic in her bathing room, just above her washing basin. She’d need to demand answers about how he knew about the secret entrance to her room. No one was supposed to know about that entrance. Maybe after she slept for a bit, her headache would go away and she could think more clearly. She was terribly chilly. Sleep would answer all of her questions; she was certain of it. She just needed to let her eyes close.
“Princess? How about that kiss?”
“I’m not…” Her eyes stayed closed.
“What was her name?”
“It was a boy,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“My first kiss was with a boy,” she responded, her words slurred with chill and sleep. “I just thought it was presumptuous for you to have assumed.”
He chuckled darkly at that as he reached her mirror,finding the pressure release so that it slowly opened into the room. Her chambers were just as she’d left them. He set her wet, brine-covered body on her bed. She hated how filthy she felt and wished she hadn’t been forced to dirty her duvet, but she didn’t have the energy to argue.
“Where do you keep your tonics?”
She didn’t answer. He’d figure it out. She just needed to sleep for a little while.
“Hey.” This slap was rough, reminding her of how Dwyn had hit her on the cliffs. “I need you to be an active participant in your survival. Where are your tonics?”
