Blood Oath (Darkest Drae #1)(33)

The girl pouted at the Drae, crossing her arms.

“I’m not going in there,” I said.

His black brows arched. “You don’t want to be clean?”

I was desperate to be clean, not that I’d admit that. The thought halted me. I wanted to be clean. What did it matter that the bath came from someone I loathed? Maybe I should accept the offer. Who knew when I’d get the chance again?

With a growl, Irrik traversed the space in two strides and reached for me.

I pressed my back against the wall. “Fine, but leave me to do it.”

The Drae halted right in front of me, and the intensity of his gaze made me rethink my plan. I wanted a bath. Truly I did. But not if he was anywhere in the vicinity.

“Leave me to do it,” I mumbled and then forced out the next word. “Please.”

“Guards, outside,” he snapped after a second. “Lydelia, help bathe her. There’s a clean garb . . .” He gazed around the room then shook his head. “Delio, go grab her something to wear.”

One of the men turned and disappeared down the corridor.

“Are you allowed to do this?” I asked.

His face firmed. “I’m a Drae. What do you think?”

I stared at him, at his cold face and cold eyes and where, if he had a heart, I’d surely be able to see it. “I don’t want to be part of the game you’re playing with the king.”

“That game is the only thing keeping you alive,” he sneered. “I’d think you’d want me to use you as a pawn, if only so you saw another week or month.”

I scoffed and gestured. “You call this being alive?” I will never help you. I will do everything I can to kill you.

His eyes flashed.

“If you know about Tyr, why haven’t you told him?” The name of the king wouldn’t pass my lips.

Lord Irrik’s lips thinned on his beautiful and horrible face. The Drae’s eyes searched my expression, seemingly growing angrier by the second. What did he have to be angry about? So his oath to the king was a collar, boo-freakin’-hoo. Why did he make it in the first place if he hated the king so much?

“You coming here will only bring me pain,” I said. “Yet you knew that because of Jotun’s reaction last time. This is why you’ve come. The bath, the servant—” I broke off, breathing heavily, sick inside from how flippantly these people were playing with my body and mind.

His face didn’t change, and my fury swelled as it reminded me of the first time I’d seen him, cloaked in the shadows of the fountain garden. A burning began behind my eyes, and I hoped he saw it in my gaze—how much I wished I’d never stopped, never met him.

“Get out,” I said.

With a cruel twist of his lips, astonishingly, he did.





14





“Ryn?” Ty’s hoarse whisper called me from sleep.

The deepest, non-injury related sleep I’d had since my mother died.

I shifted on my bed, wincing when my face grazed against a blanket. I brought my fingertips to the previous gash on my leg only to find my skin was smooth and unmarred after my bath.

The girl had been right. One bath wasn’t enough. The water had kept flowing even though Irrik hadn’t returned. The girl had changed my bedding, brought me fresh clothing and a blanket, plus more food. All while telling me what a grand lover Lord Irrik would make. Sick.

I’d rather marry a donkey with one and a half legs.

Ty called louder this time, his voice tinged with worry. “Are you al’right?”

I blinked through the last dregs of my amazing sleep. I kind of felt like a person today and would have if I didn’t have the monster to thank for the way the warmth of the bath had defrosted some of my soul.

I also felt guilty I got a bath and Ty didn’t.

“I’m fine. Sorry, Ty. I’m right as—” My mother’s expression caught in my throat. Right as rain.

“I’m fine. I was allowed a bath yesterday.” Ty had probably heard my groans and splashes. Blood rushed my cheeks at the thought. I supposed I should be well past caring about that now.

“Yes,” he said, drily. “I heard. It was a different kind of torture for me.”

If he’d been in front of me, I wouldn’t have let the grin cross my face.

I rolled over on my bed and grabbed a hunk of bread, nibbling on the edges. “Do you have any food left?”

Ty cleared his throat. “Not much. A mite of cheese and maybe a crust . . .”

“I have some. Let me share with you. I was only asking so I could give you some to replenish your safe store.”

I tore the rest of the loaf in half then did the same with the cheese and dried fruit. I wrapped the portion in a strip of cloth and pushed it through the bars toward him. “Here. I know it’s not as much as you gave me, but it’s something to fill your belly tonight. Or today.”

I gave it one more push, hoping I’d wiggled it far enough into the hall for him to reach it. My cheek was smooshed against the stone wall.

“I’m sorry there’s not more,” I said.

“Don’t be,” he said in his husky voice that was now more comforting than any other sound.

The rawness in his voice squeezed my heart in a vice, and I had to swallow back my emotion. “How did you do this all alone?”