Kellan’s nod was quick and decisive. “Good. The doctor left some ice chips for you. You’re not going to eat or drink for a little while.”
A crushing groan pierced the stale air as the mangled man shifted his weight on the bed made for someone much smaller. Our Viking King hesitated just a second too long, relief written on his own features, before turning on his heel and leaving—presumably for the ice chips in the cooler by the entry door.
I leaned forward again without a responsible adult in the room to hold me back. “Don’t mind him.” I placed a light hand on his shoulder. “He’s allergic to feelings.”
Aaron’s lip twitched, but whether it was from pain or my superior humor, I couldn’t be sure.
Still, the sheer relief at seeing the whites of his eyes gave me the smallest taste of hope. We’d made it out of the impossible alive.
Now I just had to pray Blondie wouldn’t murder us.
I had a feeling there weren’t enough gods in the universe for that.
The Irishman stared at me through tired eyes, and I was surprised to feel relief at his presence.
The disbelief of my attendant’s betrayal and the blade piercing my skin had been far more potent, so perhaps my judgment was off.
A bitter taste lay thick on my tongue from apparent sedation. I had no way to know how long I’d been unconscious, but the relief inRojo’seyes told me it had been long enough.
“Thought we lost you there, mate.” The usual cheeriness that laced his tone was absent, his expression pained at the admission. “Thanked a few gods to getyou through.”
That statement meant nothing to me, but I took comfort in his concern. I’d been considered dead for many months. I was grateful to still have people to mourn me at all.
My body was tender, but my chest felt as if it were on fire. A quick sweep of my gaze confirmed the bleeding had stopped, but two large patches of skin lay bare where I’d previously had hair.
“We had to revive you,” Lauchlan said, rubbing two palms over his face to cover a grimace. “But you made it through.”
So, my heart had stopped. I blinked as I processed this information.
I’d endured many years of my father’s slow lessons in torture, but none of his teachings had prepared me for this level of pain. When I shifted on the mattress to relieve the burning itch across my abdomen, Lauchlan settled a palm on my shoulder to assist my adjustment.
“It is I who should thank you,Rojo,” I returned, once I was in a manageable position. “You saved my life after my actions risked yours. It was not my intention.”
He rested his fingers along the pulse point of my wrist, as if to confirm I was truly alive.
“Eh, you’re more noble of a man than I am.” Lauchlan shook his head, a gentle smirk softening the sadness that sat in his eyes. “Dunno if I would have risked my life for the same. But I can’t fault you for bein’ a decent human being.”
I snorted in response, no part of me ever being so disillusioned as to think I could be ‘decent’. I was paying penance for the sins of my parents. Had I not been set on a different path with their betrayal, I could not claim to be any better than Vicente.
I owed my father a debt for my newfound conscience. It was his misfortune I was not a forgiving man.
He settled back into the chair next to the bedside but did not remove his hand from my wrist, keeping the warmcontact of skin on skin. It was too much of a comfort for me to remove it.
I had thought little of this man before now. He intriguedMi Reinaand had a set of skills that had proven useful. She trusted him, and I had put my faith in her judgment. He could have abandoned me when I’d failed to return. Instead, he’d remained. I was not immune to the charms of loyalty. Perhaps Hillary had seen something in this man I had not.
I examined him through a fresh lens. Long red lashes fanned bright green eyes, though the spark in them had dimmed from the darkness of our day. High cheekbones and the faint lines of a permanent smirk made him attractive, but his tousled auburn hair gave him the boyish air of a man yet to mature. His body was molded but not sculpted; approachable; a safe energy. Through these eyes, I could understand the attraction.
And he’d just saved my life and was not bragging from rooftops about his heroism. Perhaps I truly didn’t know him at all.
His voice broke through my assessing thoughts.
“But you’re going to want to give Kellan a big kiss later.”
I searched the Irishman’s face for the joke, but it held a deadly serious air. “Without him, we’d both probably be strung up in someone’s meat locker somewhere.”
A visible shudder vibrated through his body and into my arm. I did not know this thief well, but it was unlikely he had the same violent upbringing as mycompañeroand me. It would be a painful initiation to remain in our company.
“I will express my gratitude when he returns,” I vowed. Kellan Carlos was intended to be my ultimate end; instead, he had saved my life twice, at great sacrifice to his own.
