Page 19 of Jace

She tried rubbing the twin balloons that had once been her feet, but they only ached more. She hummed in frustration.

“What’s wrong?” Jace asked as he came out of the tent. “Oh.”

He looked over her shoulder at her poor, swollen feet.

“I have a balm,” he told her, heading for his pack again.

“It’s okay,” she told him.

“Out here, you can’t let something like that go,” he told her. “It’s important to take care of yourself.”

She watched the firelight dance on his bare muscles as he dug for the balm. He was such a strong man. The green of his skin no longer seemed so alien. It made her think of the forest, or a meadow at dawn.

He can literally breathe fire.

But he could also cradle a baby in his arms and ease its discomfort. This was a dangerous man, but Susannah did not fear him. In fact, she had a hard time remembering the last time she felt so safe around someone.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he crawled over, a tiny clay pot in his hand. “Your face is very serious.”

“I’m just glad you’re here,” she told him.

His pale blue eyes flashed to hers, and for a moment the air went still, and she got the crazy notion that he was about to kiss her.

But he returned his attention to the little pot in his hands.

“I know your feet hurt,” he told her. “But this will feel good, I promise.”

“I can do it,” she offered.

“Eat your dinner,” he told her. “Not that it will bring you any pleasure, but it will be good to fill your belly. I’ll take care of your feet.”

She did as she was told, pulling the plate closer and tasting the first blob of protein.

Bitterness bloomed on her tongue, and she had to fight not to shudder and wince.

“It’s bad, right?” Jace asked. “To me, it tastes like expired medicine.”

She laughed and the bitter stuff went down easier.

Jace smiled at her with a slightly puzzled look, but didn’t laugh. He was too busy slathering her right foot with the fragrant balm from the little jar.

“What’s in that?” she asked him.

“No idea,” he admitted. “But our training officer gave it to all of us after our first long march. Works wonders.”

“Was training very difficult?” she asked.

He frowned as he painted her ankle with the balm.

“I don’t know how to answer,” he said at last. “It was difficult, both physically and mentally. But I do not think I would have survived coming of age on the farm without understanding my dragon at least a little.”

She wanted to ask more, but at just that moment, his massive, warm hands enclosed her ankle tightly and began to massage.

She let out an involuntary sigh of pleasure, and his hands froze on her.

She looked up to see a startled expression in his eyes that melted into pure hunger as their gazes locked.

“S-sorry,” she said. “It just feels so good.”

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