Page 55 of Oracle of Ruin

“Never,” he murmurs against my hand with a sly grin. “You were gone a month. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“Then…”

“Get your mind out of the moat. I need a bath, and to be honest, I’m not fond of the idea of going alone after what happened last time.”

Rowan mocks a gasp, his hand pressing over his heart as he attempts to ignore my insinuations. Whether that be to assuage my embarrassment or take things slow for my sake, I don’t know. “Vera, are you making a move on me?”

My cheeks flush crimson and I desperately wish he would go back to playing nonchalant. “Please, just put me out of misery and say you’ll go.”

His face softens and he tightens his grip ever so slightly. “Relax, sunshine. Of course, I’ll come with you.”

His old nickname for me unleashes a new wave of giddiness upon my weak heart, but the implications lacing his tone send a tsunami of a different emotion through my system. Something hotter, headier. I swallow thickly, my mouth dry.

I pluck a clean towel from nearby and hold it to my chest when Rowan raises a hand to stop me. He pulls the cloth from my body and presses a cool piece of metal into my hands. I look down at the ornately carved dagger and my breath hitches in my throat. It is the dagger he gave me back at the carriage ambush, the one that I used to take my first kill. I hadn’t noticed then how beautiful the weapon truly is. The iron is surprisingly light in my hands, the hilt worn enough to be held comfortably without slipping. A finely carved rose crowns the handle, which is woven with iron thorns and vines. Gilded leaves comprise the hilt, the blade itself resembling an elongated thorn. Beautiful and yet deadly. The two ideals coexist in harmony as if there has never been a question as to whether it is possible or not.

“Where did you get it?” I finally ask, my voice thick with emotion.

Rowan blinks in hesitance before admitting, “Torin. He said the rebellion leader had it and returned it as a peace offering.”

A million questions swirl in my mind. Torin? The rebellion? How had they known it was mine?

“Torin and the rebellion?”

“I will explain everything tomorrow,” and then when I raise an eyebrow in disbelief, “I promise.” His hand finds the small of my back, a firm anchor against the storm of questions brewing.

Tension laces the air for a moment before I let it fall and walk with him towards the bathhouse, the dagger still clutched firmly in my hands.

Rowan leans down to whisper in my ear. “You look so beautiful holding such a lethal weapon.”

“Darling, Iama lethal weapon.”

“That’s my girl.”

His praise chases a blush to my cheeks and I fight the urge to physically shake the color from my face. I naively hoped that this embarrassing effect he has on me would fade after the first month of us being together, but as fate would have it, I was once again wrong.

The bathhouse looks nearly the same when we arrive. A new door has been screwed on to the hinges to replace the one I apparently splintered apart in the fight. The room has been meticulously cleaned, no sign of any disturbance or enemy in wait. Still, my heart thunders in my chest.

Rowan opens the door and passes me my towel and clean clothes. I hold on to the dagger even tighter as I stare up, wide-eyed.

“I’ll be just outside the door. You know there’s only one entrance, so no one can get in.”

“No!” The word slips between my lips before I can stop it.

Rowan jumps as if stung, his dark eyebrows shooting upward. “No?”

“Please,” I plead, “don’t go.”

Rowan follows wordlessly, his jaw set and mouth a firm line. His fists clench at his side as he takes my items from my hands again and rests them on a dry spot near the edge of the bathing pool. I dip a toe into the water, ignoring his stare boring into my back.

I am suddenly so much more aware of everything—how cool the breeze is on my skin, the warmth of the pool, the steam that would do little to conceal anything. Rowan makes a show of turning around as if he has never seen my body before, and I slowly slip out of my clothes and into the water.

The pool is warm, with a soft floral scent. Something tells me Kya had something to do with that, given her usual antics. I let the water run over my body, smoothing it over my shoulders before dipping my hair in. I reach for my shampoo, but Rowan halts me, now turned back around.

“Let me,” he insists, and I do not argue as he pulls my back against his knees and begins to lather my hair with the suds.

I haven’t let anyone wash my hair since Tanja. The thought of it nearly brings tears to my eyes, but I shove them down. This is not the time for regret, nor would she want me to think of her with Rowan only mere inches from my wet and naked body. “Are you insane? Pull him in the water, you dumb bitch!” I can practically still hear her voice shouting at me now. “You thought he was attractivebefore? Try now when his clothes are all wet and clinging to his body and you can see everything…” That’s generally where I’d cut her off and blush to high noon while she laughed at me.

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