A Promise of Fire (Kingmaker Chronicles, #1)(37)

“Do you need me to say it in sign language?” I lift my head and bite him where his shoulder meets his neck. He tastes like salt, sun, and citrus. He tastes like he smells. My tongue apparently has a mind of its own because it snakes over his skin, tasting more.

He stops breathing. He doesn’t fight me. He doesn’t even move.

What in the name of Zeus am I doing? I release the bite and spit on the ground. “Gross!” I cough out, trying my best to believe it.

Beta Sinta lifts his head, anger and something else, something intense and shiver-inducing, flashing in his thundercloud gaze. I feel frozen in place and all jumbled up—belligerent, remorseful, excited…kind of worried.

He rises, roughly hauling me to my feet. He attaches me to a tree and leaves me there while he washes the blood off his face and tries to straighten his nose. I’m covered in his blood, too, but he doesn’t seem to care.

More or less alone for the first time in days, I find a spot without any rocks or roots and stretch out, making a big deal about how great it is to finally have my own space. Which it is. Sort of.

Lacing my hands behind my head, I stare up at the leaves, a heavy feeling settling in my chest. I didn’t mean to break his nose.

An hour later, Beta Sinta brings me to the stream in silence. His nose is swollen, and both his eyes have dark bruises under them. Instead of turning invisible for a bath, I wash my face, neck, and hands and then start chanting. He looks wary but doesn’t try to stop me. When I’m done, I plunge my hand into the water and snatch the salamander I conjured out of the mud before it can swim away.

I rinse it off and then shove it in Beta Sinta’s face. “Here. Eat this.”

“Why?”

“It’ll fix your nose.”

He eyes the wriggling creature with suspicion. “How?”

“How do you think? With magic.”

“Are you a healer, too?”

“No, but I know some tricks.” I’ve needed them. “Go on. Eat. And no swallowing it whole. You have to chew. Crunch. Crunch,” I say, dangling it in front of his nose.

He looks disgusted, and a little cross-eyed because it’s so close. I’m surprised when he opens his mouth. I toss the salamander into it, and Beta Sinta crunches down. He gags, his eyes watering at the vile taste, but he still chews and swallows.

I grimace. “I can’t believe you ate that.”

“Why? You said I should.” He clears his throat, visibly nauseated.

“Because it’s revolting. And how do you know I didn’t just poison you?”

“Did you?”

“No, but I could have.”

He shrugs, completely unconcerned.

“By the way, you could’ve swallowed it whole.”

Now he looks annoyed. Ha!

“And just so you know, never eat a blue amphibian. Most colors are fine, but blue is bad news.”

He touches his nose, wiggling it back and forth and then scrunching it a few times. There isn’t a trace of damage left. “I’ll remember that if anyone ever tries to serve me a toad.”

I make a face and roll my eyes. “I’ve never seen anyone conjure a magic toad. Toads are mostly terrestrial, anyway. I don’t think they count.”

“I’m not surprised. I just wanted to see you make a face and roll your eyes. It’s adorable.”

Adorable? My jaw hits the riverbank. No one’s ever accused me of that before.

Great. Now I can’t make faces or roll my eyes. My life just got bleaker. So why do I feel like smiling? Gah!

After dinner, Beta Sinta ties me to the tree again, apparently to have a conversation with Carver that I’m not allowed to hear. I don’t mean to, but I fall asleep watching the moon hang in the sky. I wake up screaming, my knuckles flying toward Beta Sinta’s throat. He catches my hand and holds it. My fist uncurls as where I am and who I’m with push the nightmare aside.

Past shadows fade as he traces slow circles on the palm of my hand with the pad of his thumb. I’m not sure he even knows he’s doing it, but it’s suddenly all I can think about—that hot, rhythmic circle on my hand. The rough skin combined with the soothing touch heighten the shivery sensations building inside me. I don’t pull back. I’d be disgusted with myself, except this sure beats reliving needles of fire and a fist the size of my face.

Wordlessly, Beta Sinta reattaches us at the waist and then leads me over to his bedroll, spreading mine out on the left. I lie down, staring into the darkness and rejecting the completely irrational feeling of relief being next to him brings.

“Who did that to you?” he asks in a low, furious voice.

I stiffen under my blanket. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

My whole body goes still. “Why?”

“Because I punish people who hurt women.”

My chest tightens painfully. It’s a feeling I keep getting lately. I don’t like it. “I wasn’t a woman then. I was just a girl.”

A savage sound rumbles in his throat. He sounds like the lion hybrid he’s named for. “Who?”

“Like I said, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“How can you say that?” He turns to me, his eyebrows drawn into dark, angry slashes. “Don’t tell me you’re the forgiving type.”