Page 86 of Deadwood
Paxon’s nostrils flared as he pinned a glare on her, but rather than continue the argument, he turned and stormed out of the dining hall, leaving the mess and havoc he created behind.
Once he was out the doors, Raiden checked on Hanklie, ensuring he was okay before turning to me. It seemed everyone’s eyes were on me, watching to make sure I wouldn’t crumble. I’d been shoved, fell in food, and was now standing here looking more like a fool than someone who’d tried to protect one of their own.
Though I wasn’t wearing a corset, the pants and shirt I had on suddenly started feeling all too tight, the walls suffocating as they boxed us in. I needed air. To be alone with no eyes on me. To change out of this godsdamned outfit, and stop reeking of breakfast and shame.
“I need a minute,” I quickly muttered before spinning around and finding a door at the back of the dining hall. I beelined for it, shoving through and into the warm air.
As the door closed, I pressed my back up against the building, setting a hand on my chest to find my heart was beating erratically. I took a deep breath, then another, counting to four in between. I let my eyelids drift shut as my head lolled back against the warm wooden slats, the rays of the sun seeping into my skin like an answered whisper through the wind that still howled.
Was this really the life I wanted to go back to in Amosite? Being talked over, having no power over anything, treated like I didn’t even exist?
Lander at least wasn’t being irrational about being stuck in Deadwood, much unlike his brother. It was a small positive out of an ocean of negatives.
“I didn’t think food fights were your scene, Princess, but you continue to surprise me,” Bowen said, startling me from my moment of calm.
My head snapped up, finding him standing a few feet from me wearing leathers, a belt full of daggers wrapped around his hips. “Bowen,” I breathed, adjusting my stance.
“Everything okay?” he asked, the spot in the center of his forehead creasing.
I gulped, nodding as I pulled a hand through my hair. “Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
He stepped forward, and my gaze caught on a folded piece of parchment in his hand. “Well, you’re standing out here looking like you’ve seen a sandwalker, you’re covered in food, and”—his eyes fell to my pants—“you’re bleeding.”
My focus shot down to my legs at his observation, thinking he was playing a trick on me. Through the mess of food, I couldn’t tell what he was referring to. “It’s just berries.”
He shoved the parchment in the back pocket of his pants before he walked closer, only stopping once he was directly in front of me. Then, this man dropped to his knee before me,again, and wrapped delicate fingers around my thigh. I braced my hands on the building behind me, staring down as he prodded my skin through my pants.
A breath hissed between my teeth as he hit a sore spot.
“Right there,” he murmured, dropping a hand to retrieve a dagger from his waist.
My eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
“Checking your wound,” he stated, bringing the blade to my pants.
I tried to pull my leg back, but he held it firm with his other hand. The way he kept me rooted before him sent tingles flowing up my spine.
“You’re not going to dig in it, are you?”
He paused with the tip of the blade pressed against the fabric, as if he had so much control over the steel that he knew it wouldn’t pierce unless he wished it to. His eyes met mine. “No, Auria. Not unless I have to.”
Before I could protest once more, he sliced through the material. I waited for the bite of pain to follow, but none came. He studied me carefully. “You think I’d hurt you?”
“I don’t know what to think,” I replied honestly. He was hot and cold with me, day and night. One minute, he was behaving as if he was irritated with my existence, and the next, he was protecting me from falling rocks and an angry, decayed dragon.
He raised a shoulder before moving his attention back to my leg. “Your opinion of me hasn’t changed.”
“Should it have?” I asked.
With a small portion of my leg now exposed, he sheathed the dagger, pulling out a healing vial next. “You can think whatever you’d like, whether it’s wrong or right.”
I let out a snort as he uncapped the vial.
“Something funny, Princess?”
“You act so kind, yet you seem so…” I trailed off, trying to think of the right word.
“Charming?”
