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“I know, I know.”

But how do I tell her if she’s caught, it will mean life or death? Not only for her, but even for the one who might stumble upon her.

seventeen

WE. TOGETHER.

Marge doesn’t take long to greet me the next morning. In fact, as soon as I walk into the healer’s quadrant, she shoves a glass vial into my hand and barks at me to deliver it to Darian. Apparently, his quarters are near mine. Our rooms are separated by one building, the second and now only, storage tent. My skin crawls at the realization of our proximity.

I bite down on my tongue to keep myself from refusing Marge’s order.

When I hesitate, Marge’s expression darkens “Today, Katerina.Now.”

Clearing my throat, I dip my head and leave the healer’s quadrant. My heartbeat thunders in my ears as I pass my quarters and slow at the stone structure two buildings down from mine. Staring at the thick wooden door, I contemplate leaving the vial at the doorstep.

“Pfft, he doesn’t scare me.”I try to convince myself.

“Who?”Daeja’s voice ghosts over me.

“Nobody. A wannabe dangerous two legger.”I narrow my eyes and pound on the door.

The door creaks open, revealing a disheveled Darian. His green eyes narrow, and he slowly closes the door in my face.

I blink. Completely caught off guard by the response. But the risk of Marge’s discontent if I don’t do as she’s asked pushes me forward. I beat on the door again.

Darian opens the door a few inches to confirm it’s still me, but as he shuts it again, I slam a hand out against the door, propping it open.

His eyes flare, a crooked grin splitting his lips.

Holding down an efforted grunt, I shove my weight into the wood. But as I push into the door, he backs off it, and it swings wide open. I stumble forward, nearly falling to my face before he catches me by my elbow.

As he steadies me back up to my feet, I turn toward him, glaring. He closes the door, shutting out the daylight. The thick stone walls seclude us from the camp chatter outside.

His eyes travel from my face down the length of my body. “What are you doing here?”

I flinch, shifting uncomfortably under his unbearably heavy stare. “Marge sent me.”

“Hmmm…” He leans against his door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. A black sleeveless tunic exposes his tanned, muscular arms. His stupidly tousled brown hair falls into his brow, obscuring his eyes. “And what does Marge want?”

Gods, he looks like an absolute mess.

I freeze. Forgetting what exactly I came for. I fumble for the vial I tucked earlier into my waistband. “Marge wanted me to—”

I catch him eyeing me. The intensity of his stare enough to light fire. A terror lurks beneath my skin of what he might do to me after I twisted that dagger in his thigh. Especially now thatwe are alone. Away from any witnesses. Away from anyone who could possibly save me from him.

Damnit.

So much for convincing myself he didn’t scare me.

I scan every inch of his body, searching for a hint of a sword, dagger, or—

“If you’re going to undress me with your eyes, please also use your hands,” he rumbles.

I sneer. “I’m assessing your injuries, it’s part of my job.”

“Ahh, is that what we are calling it nowadays? Might I assess your injuries next? Preferably, without clothes.” He pushes off the wall, his gaze floating down toward my lower half. “I find it more...accurate.”

Clenching my hand around the vial, I narrow my eyes. “Is thatallyou think about?”