I busy myself around the small camp, and when I look back at Paedyn from where I stoke the flames of the dying fire, her lids are drooping, eyelashes fluttering with the promise of sleep. Then I catch her shiver slightly in the brisk, night breeze.
Well that just won’t do.
I kneel beside her, scooping her into my arms before pulling her off the ground and carrying her closer to the fire. She grunts groggily against my chest before I lay her down on the packed dirt, watching her chest rise and fall with steady breaths, so unlike the ragged, shallow ones she choked on earlier.
And then I sit there. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away as she drifts to sleep beside the fire, alive and breathing deeply. She shakes again, making me wish I had a blanket to offer her, had something to offer her. The truth of that thought hits me like a blow to the gut.
I have nothing to offer her.
I am wrong, so wrong for her. She is too brave, too bold, too bloody good for me. Maybe I could be a better man. Maybe I could be more like Kitt with his heart on his sleeve and happiness on display. Maybe the future Enforcer could break down a few walls, become a man who is more than the masks he wears around his people.
But ever since she discovered I was the prince and declared us enemies, I’ve played along, not wanting to be outdone. And it’s fun. It’s a distraction for the both of us, the toying and teasing with one another.
But now?
If I am to be her enemy, I want it to be because she loathes herself for wanting me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Paedyn
I wake to the unfortunately familiar sound of birds squawking above me.
I woke up.
Squinting in the blinding sun, I gently run my hands over where my healing wound hides beneath the folds of battered cloth.
I’m alive. I’m breathing. I’m healing.
Then my fingers find their way to the strap of leather tight around my arm. I’m shocked to find it’s still there. Shocked that Kai didn’t cut it from my dying body in the first place. Shocked that he saved my life, nursed me back to health, and let me keep my stupid strap of leather through it all.
Apparently, he went through all this trouble to be a good sport, a gentleman.
My ass.
“Good morning. Well, it’s almost afternoon, actually.”
My head whips towards the deep voice coming from behind. And there he is, hands in pockets, ankles crossed, and leaning against a low hanging branch. Now that I’m not a breath away from death, his appearance and lack of shirt is suddenly extremely distracting. I avert my gaze quickly, though I don’t miss the smirk sliding to his lips when he catches me staring.
Annoying, arrogant ass.
“I’m surprised you’re still here. Along with my band,” I say, casually dusting the dirt from my clothes.
He huffs out a soft laugh behind me. “Eager to be rid of me, darling?”
I clear my throat and turn to face him, leaning back on my palms as I eye him curiously. His hair is messy, strands of it clinging to his forehead with sweat, right above where his eyes shine like bits of silver. There’s a shadow of stubble clinging to his sharp jaw, and I can just make out the faint divot of his right dimple, equally distracting and devastating.
I can’t stand it.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, gesturing between the two of us.
“The plan for…？” He tilts his head slightly to the side, peering at me, playing with me. He knows exactly what I mean.
“For us.”
“Us. I like the sound of that, don’t you?”
I roll my eyes, ignoring him. “What do we do now?”
“That is a very loaded question, Gray.”
I blink. He didn’t say my first name. And for some maddening reason, I wish he had.
I’m annoyed with both myself and him, so naturally, I take it out on the latter. “Why didn’t you take my band? And why not try to take it now that I’m healed?”
Amusement tilts up the corner of his mouth as he pushes off the tree branch and strides towards me. “That’s another loaded question.” That right dimple deepens. “First of all, you’re not completely healed. Second, why would I pass up the opportunity to work together? You know we make a great team. And third,” he crouches down in front of me so we are eye to eye as he continues, “it’s cute that you said I could try to take your band from you.”
Now both dimples are taunting me.
“Well, if you’re so confident, go ahead and try.” My face is close to his, my voice full of challenge. “I’m sure you remember how our last fight ended.”
“You’re still injured, remember?”
“And you don’t look much better,” I say, frowning at his wrapped shoulder, though no blood dots the white fabric.
“Concerned for your new partner?” A wicked grin spreads across his face as his eyes flick between mine. He’s close. Too close. He smells of pine and rain and sweat and, Plagues, I need to distract myself.
I tear my gaze away from his and pull on my bow and quiver as I stand to my feet. Struggle to my feet is more like it. Kai stands with me, bracing one hand on my shoulder and the other on my uninjured side. I move to take a step away, annoyed that he thinks I need his help. But my legs feel like jelly, like stone, all at once, proving that I do need his help when I stumble into his solid frame. His chest shakes with rough laughter which only annoys me further.
“Yeah, I don’t think I would have much trouble trying to get this band from you.” He traces a finger across the leather strap, brushing my skin as he does so.
I catch his wrist and look up at him. “Well, if we are going to be partners, you won’t need to hurt yourself by trying to take my band at all.”
He looks me up and down, brows slightly raised. “So, you agree, then? Partners?”
I contemplate it, considering how I would much rather be fighting alongside the future Enforcer than against him.
I narrow my eyes at him. “How do I know I can trust you?”
He scoffs. “Did me saving your life mean nothing to you?”
“And I’ve saved yours. That doesn’t mean you trust me.”
“And how do you know I don’t?”
We stare at each other.
Plagues, what am I getting myself into?
Maybe it’s because I’m too weak to fight him, or worse, maybe it’s the part of me that doesn’t want him to leave that makes me say, “Fine. Partners.”
I glance from his injured shoulder to the tall stump behind him before placing my palms on his chest, his skin hot beneath mine. I push him back until his legs collide with the stump before pushing his shoulders down until he’s sitting before me.
Mischief dances in those smoky eyes of his as he looks up at me. “What are you doing, Gray?”
“Fixing up my partner,” I say simply, beginning to unwrap his makeshift bandage. I smile before adding, “You won’t be of any use to me if you’re injured.”
“Your concern for my wellbeing is truly heartwarming,” he says dryly.
I ignore him and pull at the stubborn cloth that’s sticking to the skin beneath. I swear under my breath when I finally glimpse the patch of burned, blistered skin beneath his collarbone. It’s inflamed and sticky and I didn’t need to observe the tight set of his jaw to know that it’s extremely painful.