Rythos growled and I jolted, not used to such a sound from him. He reached out and brushed a hand over my hair, but his gaze stayed on the woman. She shut her mouth.
Rythos sat me on the lone chair in their room. I stared at the wall while the men talked in hushed voices.
“Don’t do that.” Rythos’s voice was gentle as he pulled my hands from my throat. I’d been scratching at it, as if that rope were still wrapped around me. My cheeks heated, and I took a deep breath, burying my hands in the blanket he placed on my lap.
Lorian stepped into the room. His knuckles were bruised, and a muscle twitched in his cheek when he looked at me. “Tell me what happened.”
My throat thickened until I could barely breathe. For some reason, a ball of shame was burning in my chest.
“Prisca.” His voice was gentle, and he crouched in front of me, the remaining fury drained from his expression. “If you can’t talk about it…”
The unexpected gentleness shook some of the fog from my mind.
“I-I was in such a deep sleep. I woke, and he was already in my room. How did he get into my room?”
I loathed how small my voice sounded. Lorian’s jaw clenched. “It’s likely that he stole a key from the innkeeper. The idiot’s lying in a drunken heap by the fire.”
I nodded, still feeling as if I were stuck in a nightmare. As if I were about to wake up at any moment.
“You don’t need to talk about it,” Lorian said.
Our eyes met and held. Not pity. Sympathy and banked fury, but he wasn’t looking at me like I was a victim. That look made me steadier.
“No. No, I want to.” I took a deep breath. “His hand was on my mouth, and he pinched my nostrils until I couldn’t breathe. He said he was going to kill me. And then hang me up where you’d find me.” Nausea made my stomach swim, and Marth let out a rough curse from somewhere behind me. “We fought. I used my…my power.” I said the last word in a whisper, conscious of anyone who could be listening at the door. “He only froze for a second, but it was enough for me to take the knife and run for the door. Then his h-hand was in my hair, and he pulled me back. I slashed out. And I couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop.”
I’d been like an animal. All I’d known was fear. Fear, and the knowledge that I’d do anything to survive.
Marth opened the door. I hadn’t noticed him leave. He stepped back inside the room and handed me a cup of tea.
I took a sip. Peppermint. The scent both calmed me and cleared my head. “Thank you.”
“You did everything right.” Galon’s voice was rough, and he crouched next to Lorian.
“We need to leave,” I said. “Surely the authorities were summoned?”
Lorian gave a disinterested shrug. “An attempted murderer was felled by a tiny woman. Everyone in this inn just watched him stumble away. No one will be summoning the authorities tonight.”
I ignored the tiny woman part. “Are you sure?”
“The innkeeper is too drunk, and any guests have been suitably frightened by Rythos’s glare.”
Rythos snorted. The gentle ribbing between the men settled me more than the tea had. Some of the tension in my chest began to drain away.
“You’ll sleep in here tonight.” Lorian got to his feet. “We’ll leave at first light.”
I glanced around the small room, at the bedrolls that covered almost every inch of it. As much as the thought of going back to my own room made my stomach swim, I couldn’t see where exactly I could sleep in this room.
“Uh…”
“Get in bed. Here.” He took my empty teacup and handed me a clean shirt. I stared down at myself, suddenly revolted by the splatter of blood across Rythos’s shirt.
“Sorry,” I muttered to Rythos.
“Never mind about that.”
Marth stepped forward, looking suddenly awkward as he handed me a damp cloth. “For your face.”
My lower lip trembled. Who would’ve known this group of hard-faced, tough mercenaries had mother-hen tendencies?
I took the cloth and wiped at my skin, ignoring the rust-colored residue that transferred from my face.
The men all politely turned their backs as I changed my shirt. I climbed into the bed, and despite the fact that I was now surrounded by mercenaries, I felt strangely safe.
They somehow found room on the floor for Lorian, and within a few minutes, the lamp was dimmed.
I stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Each time I closed my eyes, my breath caught in my lungs, and I felt his hand over my mouth, felt his fingers pinching my nostrils closed. Felt the rope, unyielding and rough around my neck.