As she dozed off, getting lost between being awake and asleep, that annoying feeling of slipping made her eyes shoot open. She breathed deeply—wincing a little from the pain in her clavicle—and accepted that perhaps she really did need to go to bed.
She cupped water into her hands and splashed her face. It was too tempting to stay in the waters, just for the healing effects alone. All of her wounds were officially closed, or nearly closed, but she wassore. Scars would form, healing enough to be less visible than the one on her back. She was also to drink a tea before bed that would dull the muscle spasms, placed on that regimen for the next two weeks: once in the morning and once in the evening.
Rem sat on the edge of the bath, the steaming water moistening her face and keeping her warm. Her exhausted body ached so badly that it was hard to even stand up all the way.
She could feel a deep sleep coming.
The door opened and closed behind her, to which she causally glanced over her bare shoulder, expecting to see an Elder or another Silver.
Instead, she sawRonan.
He was still covered in blood and dirt like a feral mess, his usual winding strips of hair completely taken out as grime held his hair back.
Rem felt exposed—not necessarily inappropriate, just not quite used to, or ready, to be naked in front of him. Especially not like this, with all of her wounds, and while she was exhausted. An instinctual reaction to slide back into the water overcame her, quickly dipping back into the warm bath.
"Everything good?" she asked with alert eyes.
He grabbed a towel and dipped it in a basin of water near the door. He wiped at his worn face. "It's a long story. But Scarlet is no longer under the control of Enola, and unfortunately, Calder is dead," he said with displeasure, cleaning the towel to use it again, running it through his hair. "Some of the Alphas are meeting to discuss what to do with the packs and the alliances on the morrow," he said. She tried to catch all of that, but figured she understood the important parts. “Then, we go home to Warden.”
Home. To Oliver. And, she supposed, to whatever a new normal meant for her. She eyed Ronan, eternally grateful for his appearance when she needed it most. "You saved us," she muttered, her faint voice carrying over the water.
He took off his shirt that clung to his body from filth and blood, exposing his large shoulders and thick frame, throwing it onto the floor with a heavyflop. The water seemed warmer to her at the thought of him joining her. Especially as she eyed the way all of his muscles worked together, even with the simplest movements.
Those pale eyes of his examined her before looking back down at his body as he cleaned his chest, his forearms rippling. "Being taken to the humans would have been enslavement. None of you should ever be called a hound. Also, fuck Enola’s betrayal. Ihatebetrayals," he warned while wiping his wounds, his tone rife with exhaustion.
His gaze moved to the water as he asked, "What happened when I got here? Why were you fighting the hunters? What led to that?"
She was breathing quick breaths, the ability to converse with him a new and exciting experience. "I attacked the man… The one leading the horses,” she said, not sure what the word for ‘wagon’ was.
He smiled and cleaned the rag again. "You have a feisty side."
"Feisty?" she asked, not knowing that word in Icelandic.
"Determined. Spirited."
She snorted. "Not enough. I want my claws. Would have been better."
He laughed and then looked at her, his smile fading. "You do realize that I am getting in the water? I haven't slept in two days, running the entire time just to get here. My body is beaten. I need to relax."
"I'm busy using it," she teased, the corner of her mouth gently crooking upward.
"Yes, it might get cramped if I got in," he said while he wiped his arms, a trace of humor in his voice.
She laughed and looked to the bath that could easily fit thirty people.I didn't know he was funny. It made her want to stay and get to know him, despite her anguished, tender self.
But he was covered in even more wounds than her, and she wondered if he might just want to be alone for now. "Want me to leave?"
Their gazes met, and whatever burdens he carried seemed to lift as his eyes softened. "Not unless you want to."
Her heart fluttered. He was giving her the option to stay, naked, while he, too, would be naked. The ache in her bones eased as a nervous excitement replaced her worries. She didn’t know if she’d regret this next statement, but she felt compelled to say it. "No, I don't want to leave," she mumbled.
He cocked a brow as his eyes locked to hers, and her cheeks warmed.
Ronan smirked. "You are easy to rile up."
She bit her lip as she tried to control her smile. "So are you." She glided away from the edge that was closest to him while giving him a wild, curious gaze.
Perhaps it was the magic of the waters that motivated her, but never in a lifetime would she have guessed that she’d flirt in such a state.
