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He gave me another glare when I didn’t immediately respond. That smile very nearly slipped out. His grumpiness was surprisingly endearing when he wasn’t upsetting people. I could take his moods as long as he was polite to others. Maybe I could get my mother to translate that for me.

Six

SIMON

It didn’t matter how late I slept in; I still hated waking up. It took me time to feel alert again. Even a trip to the trench and breakfast didn’t help. It was like my brain was fogged with fatigue. When the barbarian led me to the river to wash, I was still not fully awake—not until my toes touched the water, and the cold shocked me. I yelped and jumped back, shooting Feigrind an incredulous look.

Of course, that was when I noticed he wasn’t paying attention to me. He was pulling off his clothes so he could bathe, too. And oh, goddess, the man was gorgeous. All tanned skin and thick muscles that looked like they were carved from stone. Tattoos started on his neck and went down his chest and arms. My gaze kept going, taking in every inch of him shamelessly. The round globes of his ass were so tight, I was a little jealous. Thick thighs and calves. Large feet. He had a few scars here and there, nowhere near as many as the guy who’d rescued me the day before, but they didn’t take away from his appeal. And when heturned just enough for me to get a look at his package, my mouth fell open.

“Oh, shit.”

“Tribute?” he questioned, frowning at me.

I forced my eyes off his cock. His gorgeous, perfect, should probably be a monument somewhere, cock. If he came into the brothel looking for fun with a man like me, I wouldn’t have let him leave before I got that cock in every position I could think of. And that was saying something. I wasn’t easily swayed by dick. His just happened to be that gorgeous.

I’d honestly not given his appearance much thought before. I was too focused on running. But he was a handsome man. For a barbarian, anyway. His hair was shaved on the sides, but long on top, and pulled into a ponytail most of the time. The only time I’d seen it free was when he slept, and now when he was about to wash. He had a thick beard, but it didn’t drag down to his stomach like some men preferred. I hated beards like that. His was trimmed neatly to follow the line of his jaw. His nose was a little large, but it didn’t take away from his features. It made him look more rugged instead, more natural. And his gray eyes were dark like storm clouds.

He didn’t wait around forever for me to answer him. He probably thought I’d been complaining or causing trouble. Instead, he walked straight into the river until he was hip deep before dunking his head in to wet his hair, which was when I remembered how cold it was. Little droplets struck me when he surfaced and flicked the long hair over his head again, giving me goosebumps.

“You aren’t serious, are you? It’s too cold!”

Maybe a brothel wasn’t the fanciest place to live, but at least we always had warm baths. Bathing in an icy river was barbaric.

“If you want to get clean, you will need to get in,” he said blandly, gesturing with his hands to tell me to get in the water.I adamantly refused. I was not going to freeze my ass off just because they didn’t understand the concept of putting the water to heat over the fire before bathing. Maybe I could teach him something before I left. Like the gloriousness of a warm bath.

“If you’re hoping for him to give in and warm you a bath, you’re going to be disappointed,” an unfamiliar voice said behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to study the man in question. He wasn’t a barbarian, his frame too round for that. Not fat, per se. Husky, like he ate well, but still moved around enough to burn off the excess. His short blonde hair was shaved on the sides like all the men in the clan seemed to do, and more spiky on top.

It was a good thing they weren’t getting me to join this clan. There was no way in hell I’d shave my hair. I took good care of it.

He didn’t come alone. A barbarian with shoulder-length dark hair followed him, stripping out of his clothes before he even got to the bank of the river. The man who’d spoken just looked amused at his lack of modesty, following suit. I stopped him before he stepped into the water to follow his man.

“Wait. Are you serious? No one bathes in hot water here?”

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “The babies do. Little kids who can’t handle the cold yet. You get used to it. I’m Patrick, by the way. That’s Verus, my bondmate.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the barbarian who had joined Feigrind. They spoke low to each other, soaping up in the freezing water like it was nothing to them.

A whimper actually escaped me, which was really not like me. But the idea of going into that water made me cringe all the way to my toes.

“It’s good for your skin,” a familiar, terse voice said behind me. Ugh. Did they have parties to bathe around here? I was a damn prostitute, and even I enjoyed privacy to bathe.

The healer came down the path that everyone else had. Behind her were another two barbarians I didn’t know, and a familiar and very unwelcome face following behind them. That got me moving. I either got my ass in that water or scratched Finn’s eyes out. I still blamed him for being here. They wouldn’t have started sending men if he had just gone home.

The cold made it feel like it was hard to breathe, and my whole body started to shake within seconds. Every scoop of water over my skin made it worse until I was sure I’d expire on the spot.

Warm hands settled on my shoulders, and I looked up, surprised to find Feigrind frowning down at me. “Your lips are turning blue.”

I opened my mouth to respond with something snarky, but Patrick interrupted to translate before I could give away my secret.

“He says your lips are turning blue. If you get deeper, the wind isn’t so bracing,” he suggested.

I made a face at him. “The wind might not be so bad, but the water is way worse! What is wrong with you people?”

Patrick didn’t seem to mind the water, but he had more body fat to keep him warm. And the woman, who took turns with her barbarian holding the baby so the other could get clean, had the remnants of the baby weight on her, too. The only one close to my size was… ugh. Finn.

Casting a glance in his direction, I scowled. He was cuddled up against his barbarian to keep warm. The larger man seemed to enjoy the clinging and worked around him easily before turning to Finn and washing him, too. It was sweet and intimate, and I hated them both.

Feigrind offered me the soap, and I snatched it out of his hand, scrubbing quickly but thoroughly. I was not letting dirt linger on my skin just because the water was freezing. I evendunked my head to wash my hair, though I hated using plain soap on it. I missed the fancy soaps I had at the brothel. They were better for my hair and skin.

By the time I was finished, I was much more awake—and even more pissed off. I grumbled constantly under my breath about stupid barbarians and the lack of baths. I was so annoyed, I didn’t notice Feigrind leading me somewhere new after we got dressed until I was pushed onto a felled log in front of a fire to warm up. I looked around with a frown. I thought we’d return to his tent.