Page 17 of Kissed By the Sun
His grin turned animalistic. “And where would be the fun in that?”
“To be honest, I thought you weren't interested in this anymore.” I didn't need to say that I was referring to us having sex or anything like that; he clearly got the point.
“I was just fighting the inevitable.” He paused and took a deep breath as he played with his own bits of grass. When he continued, I was surprised by the uncertainty in his tone. “I wasn't sure if we would have what it took to make it. If we would have the resolve to fight everyone to be together.”
“I see,” I replied with a slight huff, trying not to let his words bother me. He had really doubted me that much? I supposed that made sense in a way. I mean, he didn't know everything about my past. It's not like we'd ever sat down and gone through things chronologically. He probably didn't even know a third of it, just like I didn't know much about his past either.
There was no denying that there was something right between us, something that made me want to turn to him and him alone. For physical touch. And for emotional reassurance. For pretty much everything.
Finally I couldn’t take the awkwardness anymore and said, “I mean to be honest I was probably just gonna throw these away once we got back to the castle. I had thought about trying to wash them, but I don't think the stench from whatever it was that we were fighting through is ever going to get out of these things.”
“Well, we may as well get them off you now then. Just to be on the safe side. Please allow me.” He leaned forward, crowding me as one of his hands came to my side and gripped the leather fabric there, tugging at the laces that held it closed over my chest.
Which was, of course, when his hand hit a wound that I had forgotten I’d received while I was fighting. I winced and must have made some kind of noise.
“What?” he snapped, jerking his hand away as though I'd bitten him. “What's wrong?”
“I just got a little hurt in the fight, that's all. Nothing I can't handle.”
He leaned back, putting distance between us even though the intensity in his gaze had grown. “Hurt? How?” The urgency in his tone made me nervous.
I tried to remember when it had happened. “I think one of the corrupted fae stabbed me with some weird dagger.”
“Can you tell me what the dagger looked like?”
“No, it was a battle, Thorn. I didn't exactly track everything.” I rolled my eyes at him. He should know better than to ask something like that, I mean I had completely forgotten about the injury until now, so how would I remember what the dagger looked like?
He grunted in understanding, but I knew that there was some irritation in there as well.
“What does it matter anyway?”
“According to the reports I've read since we got back there has been an uptick in the number of people that carry cursed weapons in an effort to stave off the corrupted fae when they attack.”
“Cursed weapons? What does that mean?” I furrowed my brows, wishing, not for the first time, that I had a better understanding of fae culture.
“They're like your standard magical weapons, but the energy that is used to make them is… darker.” He was choosing his words carefully and I knew he was trying to hide something from me, which irritated me, but I also accepted that this was part of his personality. He was protective, and I had never really had todeal with that before. So, It was new for me. That didn't mean I didn't appreciate it, though. It was just taking a little bit to get used to. That's all.
“Let me see the wound.”
I sighed with exasperation, but I knew if our positions were reversed, I would be demanding the same thing. Which was why I complied. Without too much of a fight, at least.
I quickly unlaced my leathers and beared my side to him. The stab wound wasn't so much a stab wound as it was a slice that cut across my skin. The shape and location actually made me feel a lot better about it until I realized that there were angry red veins coming from it.
And that they were spreading even as I watched
I had no idea what to make of something like that. It was obvious that the weapon used in the attack wasn't normal, that there was something about it that was wrong on a level I didn’t have the words to describe, though Wyn probably would.
I had no idea how to consider whether the wound was actually dangerous or not. It looked like it was, but maybe it was just a flesh wound, nothing too serious that a small dose of healing magic couldn’t fix.
Thorn’s touch was gentle. His fingers were as hot as coals, though. I knew he ran hot because of the whole Sun Kissed thing, but this seemed a little more intense than I'd ever experienced before.
My mind replayed the scene where he had turned into a human fire tornado. Although, I suppose fae fire tornado was more accurate. I couldn't help but marvel at his control of magic and wonder if it was ever something that I would be able to manifest as well. Somehow I didn't think so. It seemed surreal to me to imagine myself with that kind of power.
“That's a nasty one.” Thorn’s voice echoed in my ears.
“So, it was cursed?” I clarified.
“Yeah. Hang on a second. I think I've got something in my pack.” He popped to his feet and moved around to the side of his horse before rummaging through the pack.
