Page 20 of Tharn's Hunt
Nothing. Just that unblinking stare.
"Fine, I'll call you Goldilocks, you know…" I gesture from his copper-red hair that gleams like metal to the rest of his golden-bronze body. "Because you're just right."
Wait, what? No.Because of the hair. Just the hair. Wait. His hair is red-copper, not gold, and wasn't she blonde? God, my head hurts. Thank God he can’t understand me.
I take another bite of the ray meat, watching him as he continues his butchering. Every time I look away, my gaze keeps sliding back to him, and I tell myself it’s because there’s nothing else to look at.
He's scarred. Not just in a few places, but everywhere. Long slashes across his ribs. A puckered circle on his shoulder that looks like it might have been a puncture wound. A jagged line running from his collarbone down across his chest.
But despite his fearsome appearance—or maybe because of it—I find myself oddly at ease.
He had the twin of my sister’s earring. If he wanted to hurt me, he's had plenty of opportunity. Instead, he's brought me water. Food. Treated my wound.
Annnd, he's watching me again, those amber eyes tracking my every movement with that strange intensity that should be unsettling but somehow isn't anymore. Not completely, anyway.
"It's morning," I mutter, gesturing toward the cave entrance where light streams in. "We need to go. You need to take me to Justine."
No response.
“Justine,” I stress her name. “You do know who I’m talking about, right?”
I fish into my bra for the earring. His gaze follows my movements. Not my hand, but the way my boob shifts in the bra. His head tilts almost imperceptibly.
I clear my throat. His gaze flies to my neck instead. His head tilts the other way. A strange little shiver goes through me. Good Lord. I really need to get rid of this delirium.
“This.” I show him the earring. “You’ll take me to her now, yeah?”
I put the earring away again and try to stand, but the cave tilts alarmingly. I brace myself against the wall, willing the dizziness to pass. Fuck.
Don't pass out. Don't pass out.
Blood rushes to my temples, making my skull pound harder.
Goldilocks is there instantly, one massive hand hovering near my elbow without quite touching me. Those deadly claws just inches from my skin, yet so carefully restrained.
"Thanks," I say, taking deep breaths as I sit back down, "But I'm fine."
He makes that clicking sound again, then reaches for something else—a small pouch. From it, he extracts a set of leaves that he crushes in his palm. The scent that rises is strongly herbal, and I recognize it as the same plant matter he’d put on my leg. He gestures to my head, then to the paste.
"Medicine?" I ask, pointing to my temple where the headache pounds the hardest. Maybe it will help the fever, too, which seems to be rising again.
He tilts his head to the side in a way that comes off not as confusion but as affirmation, and I realize with a start that while he may not understand my words, he's been understanding plenty.
"Okay," I say cautiously.
I watch as he dips a finger into the paste, then pauses, holding it toward my mouth, not my temple.
I recoil slightly. "Wait, I'm supposed toeatthat?"
He makes a soft, insistent sound, still offering the paste-covered finger. The hesitation in his eyes is unexpected. He’s…asking consent with his gaze.
I sigh. "Fine. But if I croak, I demand a tombstone that reads: ‘Here lies Jacqui — should’ve stuck to trust issues.’"
He doesn’t get my joke, of course, and I’m just too weak and woozy to laugh.
I open my mouth, and he carefully places the medicine on my tongue. The moment his finger brushes my lips, that strange light ripples beneath his golden skin, pulsing outward from the point of contact. His jaw tightens, but he doesn't pull away this time. If anything, his movements become even gentler, more precise.
The paste is bitter and earthy, with an underlying spice that burns slightly. I swallow quickly, fighting the urge to gag. Almost immediately, it tingles pleasantly down my throat, then a cooling sensation spreads through my entire being.
