Page 97 of Tales of a Monstrous Heart
My limbs began to tremble again, teeth chattering as if my body was reacting to his absence. My fears threatened to return. As if sensing it, he came back, crouching before me where my feet dangled off the desk, propping my injured foot gently on his muscular thigh.
‘W-what are you doing?’ I tried to pull my foot back but that pain made my breath catch again. There was a healing kit on the ground next to his knee, his sleeves rolled up over strong forearms, ready for work.
‘Sit still,’ he commanded, unbothered by my squirming as he unlaced my boot and rolled down my stocking with the efficiency of a lady’s maid, which forced my mind to wonder just how many stockings he’d rolled down how many legs.
My face burned. His hands were cold, making me acutely aware of every single touch as my fingers curled around the wooden lip of the desk with a white-knuckled hold.
‘Are these trousers?’ His brow rose, head tipping back to see me.
‘Alma told me not to tell anyone,’ I answered weakly, hoping she wouldn’t be too cross at the state of me.
‘Scandalous.’ His grin was uneven as his gaze dropped once more to my ankle. I saw the mud speks in his hair and a streak of it on his cheek.
He assessed my leg with the efficiency of a battle surgeon. ‘This is small but deep. Did you see what cut you?’
Those dark eyes were filled with a soft patience, but all I could do was shake my head as I wrapped my arms around myself in some form of protection. A nightmare did it, but I couldn’t let those words leave me. I’d lost my mind. Somewhere in those ruins I’d gone mad.
A muscle moved in his jaw with my silence, as if it unsettled him, before he returned to focus on my leg. He worked carefully, cleansing his hands before wiping my wound with healing tonic that stung, then bandaged the injury cautiously.
The strong callous brush of his fingers against my skin raised gooseflesh, making strange forbidden emotions swoop through me. My breath became uneven for a very different reason.
‘It will need re-wrapping in a few hours,’ he continued oblivious to the torment he was causing. ‘Does it hurt?’
I shook my head.
He stood slowly, wary, as if I could bolt at any moment, then braced both hands on the desk on either side of my hips, his hair falling across his brow as he studied me.
All I could smell was beasam bark as it chased away the reek of smoke and the horrid memory of that place.
I’d never felt small; I was always too large and boisterous. I found a strange comfort in the size of him. The potency of his magic, the silent chaos of it, reminded my own it was in safe company and that none of my mistakes could hurtme here. There was a calmness between us that I hadn’t felt before as I considered the beautiful disarray of him.
His fingers brushed something off the edge of my jaw. Gentle but hesitant as if he couldn’t resist. Then he must have seen something he didn’t like, those eyes going so dark, and he retrieved a jar of healing balm and began to gently wipe it on my chin and the curve of my cheek.
So tenderly, as if he could hurt me with the barest motion.
‘You came.’ The words were so small from my lips, freezing him in place for a moment, before his thumb brushed my cheek once more, eyes gentle.
‘Of course, Croinn.’
Of course. As if there was no other option for him. That I mattered that much. Mattered enough to be found.
Forgetting myself, I reached up to brush the hair from his brow, revealing a faint trace of blood at his hairline and the beginning of a bruise. There was such a stillness in him, and I wasn’t quite certain he was breathing.
‘I got myself knocked unconscious, he said.’ A frown furrowed his brow and I traced my finger over the corner of it as if to smooth it out.
‘I won’t tell anyone,’ I tried to tease, but it came out too quiet. ‘I have something for it.’
I dropped my attention to my bag, opening it and reaching for my healing case, pulling out a fresh cotton square and bottle of tonic.
He didn’t move, considering every action of my hands like it was something profound. I let a few drops of the tonic soak into the cotton before I lightly placed my fingers underneath his chin, turning him towards the light as I dabbed at the area.
He let me fuss over him, almost sensing how much I needed my hands to stop trembling by doing something mundane.
‘You should take better care of yourself,’ I chided softly; the fact he hadn’t even seemed to notice he’d been hurt sat uneasily with me. The rich, almost intoxicating scent of him was perhaps the reason why such stupid words kept tumbling from my lips.
‘I didn’t choose to fall through the floor, Croinn.’ His response was dry and something about it caused a laugh to escape my lips. I felt my cheeks hurt with the fullness of my smile.
His stoic, serious eyes suddenly focused on my lips and then I wasn’t laughing anymore. The imposing nature of him made me want to move closer. To be made to feel safe for even the smallest moment.
