Page 24 of A Legacy of Stars (The Lost God Legacies)

24

TEDDY

T he wound on Stella’s side was bleeding again. Warm stickiness coated the arm that cradled her against Teddy’s body.

Teddy was exhausted from nearly drowning, but Stella’s shirt was soaked in blood. She’d saved him, and if he didn’t find shelter, she might die for her efforts.

Even with the Godsbane in her system, the bleeding should have stopped by now. The fact that the wound wasn’t clotting was a very bad sign.

The forest was silent. The only sounds were the breaths sawing in and out of Teddy’s lungs and the chirping of birds in the pines high above them. Teddy’s muscles burned from exhaustion and shivering. It was unseasonably cold for not being very high in the mountains.

“Stella, I need you to try to stay awake,” he said.

She groaned and snuggled closer to him, mumbling something into his neck.

“I know it hurts, but I’m going to find somewhere for us to stop and rest soon, and I’ll wrap your wounds and get you warm.”

She shivered, her cold fingers slipping inside his torn shirt to press against his chest .

Teddy wasn’t sure how far downriver they’d come. While the water carried them faster than they ever could have gone on foot, it could have carried them too far beyond the caves. He had no idea where they were.

He tried to shove down his panic so Stella wouldn’t feel it, but the sun was dropping low on the horizon and it was getting colder. His breath came out in little white clouds as he climbed the steep hill.

When he reached the precipice, he caught a glimpse of light reflecting through the thick pines. It had to be some kind of structure. He stumbled toward it.

Stella groaned at being jostled, but she hadn’t fully woken since she collapsed beside him at the river. He’d been walking for at least a half-hour.

He carefully approached the small cabin. Chopped wood was stacked neatly by the dark green door, to the right of which was a well pump that Teddy prayed was functional.

He stayed close to the wall, peeking in the cabin’s window, but, as he suspected from the lack of smoke coming from the chimney, it was dark inside.

He jostled the doorknob and, mercifully, it opened. The cottage was stuffy and dusty, but not overrun by cobwebs. It looked like someone had been there recently. The wood bin by the fireplace was well-stocked, and the bed was covered in a white linen dust sheet, but the rest of the furniture was uncovered.

Teddy crossed the small room in quick strides. He awkwardly tugged the cover off the bed, laying Stella gently on the quilt. She didn’t stir, and when he saw the state of her split armor and the side of her shirt, he understood why. She’d been bleeding much more than he thought. Her undershirt was soaked and even the waistband of her pants was drenched in dark blood.

Panic threatened to overtake him, but Stella needed him. He stacked logs in the fireplace and summoned the dregs of magic he had left to get a fire started.

He pulled the few things he could find from the pantry. There was a jar of honey, some dried tea, potatoes, carrots, an onion, jerky, and nuts. He set them all in a line on the counter.

In the cabinet beneath the counter, he found a heavy cauldron, a kettle, and a large metal bowl. Teddy stepped outside and filled each one with water. He set the cauldron and the kettle over the fire, then ran to Stella’s bag. It had opened during their time in the river and all of her clothing was drenched. He wrung it all out just outside the cabin door and draped her shirts, pants, and undergarments over the drying rack by the fire. Then he yanked off his soaked vest and shirt and hung them over the kitchen chairs in front of the fire.

He rifled through his bag in search of anything dry. Most of his clothes were wet, but finally, at the bottom of his bag, tucked inside the enchanted pouch his mother had gifted him for his birthday two years ago, he found one dry set of clothes and a small satchel of chamomile. He quickly stripped out of his wet pants and pulled on the dry pair as he cast a glance at Stella. She was still out cold. Her skin was so pale that she blended in with the ivory linen pillowcase and her lips were almost blue.

He needed to get her out of her wet clothes, but he also didn’t want her to stab him for seeing her naked, not that she seemed to mind when she was teasing him at the Temple of Desiree.

Still, it was different when she wasn’t conscious.

He crossed the room and pressed a hand to her cheek. Her skin was cold and smooth under his callused palm, but she didn’t stir.

“Stella, wake up. I have to change your clothes.”

She didn’t move. Teddy unlaced her boots and pulled them off. He tried to shake her awake, but she remained unconscious. Carefully, he unbuttoned her trousers, closing his eyes as he hooked his hands into the sides of her pants and undergarments and peeled the wet fabric down her legs. Fortunately, they came free with a bit of shimmying.

He hung the clothes over the arm of the plush chair by the fire and grabbed his dry shirt. He went back to the bed and sat Stella up, shifting his body behind her. The leather of her armor vest creaked as he unbuckled it and slid it free. It hit the ground with a metallic clang thanks to the stays tucked inside it.

“Stella,” he said, a little louder than before. But her head lolled against his shoulder.

Teddy crossed his arms over her chest and grabbed the hem of her shirt. He pulled the damp linen away from her skin, catching the edge of her bandeau. It took more effort than expected to peel the wet clothing off of her limp body and wrestle her into his dry shirt.

He moved out from behind her and laid her down on the bed, rolling her onto her right side and pushing the shirt up so he could look at her wound. The skin was red and angry and crusted in blood. The cut was small but deep—a puncture wound. It had stopped bleeding, but he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. He knew she could still bleed out internally, and gods knew what kind of sediment she’d been exposed to in the river.

He needed to find something to protect against infection. His mind was sluggish, and the forest was almost dark outside. He frantically tore through his memories. Isla had drilled into him the importance of having basic field herbalism memorized, but his exhaustion and anxiety were weighing on him. He didn’t know exactly where they’d landed after their trip down the river, but it was safe to say they were somewhere south of the Border Lands.

Calla root was common enough around here and the bright orange stalks would be easy to find even in the dusk light. He vaguely remembered seeing some when he was walking back from the river.

He held his hand to Stella’s forehead and checked her pulse. It was steady.

Teddy hurried out of the cabin and into the woods, retracing his steps. The cold air stung his bare chest, but he ignored it, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Half a mile down the trail, he found the bright orange stalks sprouting from the roots of a large oak tree.

He used his dagger to pry a few stalks loose, since the base was the most concentrated part of the herb. His breath burned from the cold air as he ran back to the cabin .

Stella was still asleep when he returned. He poured some boiling water from the kettle into the metal bowl, cut off the top of the root, and dropped the bottoms into the bowl. After letting it boil for a few minutes, he removed a few stalks from the water and placed them in a smaller bowl he’d found in the cabinet above the counter. He left the rest of the stalks in the water to make a healing tea. He took the bowl with the drying roots outside to cool.

The minutes ticked by too slowly. His heart rioted in his chest. Despite his best efforts to hate Stella, she’d gotten under his skin. He cared about her. He’d come to like her confronting personal questions and the way she talked in her sleep. He’d even come to enjoy the way her constant complaining about being hungry distracted him from the worry loop in his head.

She had saved him. If she’d let him go in the river, she would have survived on her own. She wouldn’t have had to use all of her magic to ease the way for him, and she probably could have healed herself once she got out of the water.

But Stella had protected him. As much as he wanted to blame it on the bond alone, he knew her. Stella wanted to protect everyone. That was just who she was. It made her both fierce when it came to standing up for the people she loved and gentle in how she always hesitated before a killing blow. That same softness plagued him with the persistent fear that she was going to get herself killed in this competition.

Gods, she might die if he couldn’t figure out a way to help her heal.

That thought filled him with terror, not because of how his parents or hers would react, but because the more he’d gotten to know her, away from their families and their old patterns, the more he was charmed by her.

He liked Stella McKay. He’d always been irritated by her extremes, but the more he was around them, the more he realized that his irritation was born entirely out of envy. Those same extremes had always felt stuck inside him, clotted in his chest, with no way out. And yet, just hearing her share so freely made it feel like he could eventually get them out.

He pressed a finger into the mushy calla root. Finally, it was cool enough to use.

He walked back inside and tried to get the right angle to mash the root, but the bowl kept tipping. In his frustration, he resigned himself to chewing it down to make a poultice for the wound. It was slow work, but after a few minutes, he had enough to pack into the wound on her side.

Teddy sliced several clean strips of fabric from the sheets, dropping one in warm water and using it to clean the blood from her skin. Then, he gingerly spread the bright orange herb into the wound and wrapped several strips of linen around her waist until the wound was packed and protected.

Stella groaned as he tied the bandage. “So much movement.”

“Nice of you to join me finally,” Teddy said. “You need to drink some of this tea I made you.”

She sighed but didn’t open her eyes. Teddy grabbed the calla root tea and helped her sit up. She kept her eyes closed and leaned her head against his shoulder as she sipped on the tea.

She didn’t speak or open her eyes for a few minutes. Finally, she blinked her eyes open. “Where are my pants?”

“You were too cold to keep wearing wet clothes. I put you in my only dry shirt,” Teddy said. Her fingers skimmed his side, and he shivered. “Sorry to be inappropriate.”

“No, you’re warm,” she said, snuggling closer and taking a long gulp of tea.

“I can pump some bath water up for you to rinse off and mix in some water heated from the fire so it’s not quite so cold,” Teddy said. “I think you lost some clothing from your bag in our swim, but your soap is still in there.”

Stella sighed. “Please.”

Teddy was relieved to have something to do to keep his mind busy. He extracted himself from her grip and grabbed the washbasin from the corner of the cabin. Outside, he pumped water into it, stopping when it was half-full. The cold water sloshed against his bare chest as he hustled it inside. He poured the remaining kettle water into the basin.

He’d been lucky to get the fire started after the amount of magic he’d spent in the river, so he didn’t have anything to offer. He looked up at Stella and she smiled weakly.

“It’s okay. I’ll be quick and then I’ll get under the covers.”

Teddy nodded and tossed her a linen towel from the pantry. “Are you okay doing it yourself?”

She blushed and nodded.

“Let me know when you’re finished, and don’t get that bandage or the wound wet.”

Stella waved him off.

Teddy stepped outside, grateful once again for the cold evening air against his heated skin. He felt hot all over, thinking about how good Stella looked in his shirt—the same shirt she was now stripping out of.

“Fuck,” he grumbled.

The minutes dripped by until finally he felt a strange tugging sensation in his chest.

Teddy pressed his cold fingers to the door and cracked it open. “Stella?”

“Did you feel it?” she asked. “I was calling you with the bond.”

Teddy stared at her. She had done a terrible job of drying after her bath and his shirt was stuck to her skin, translucent in spots.

He cleared his throat and looked away. “Feel better?”

She slumped onto the bed and picked up her mug of tea. “Yes, but I’m so tired.”

“The tea should help,” Teddy said. “And once you’re feeling a little more awake, I found some food in the pantry. I think this is a fishing cabin, so there’s not much, but there’s enough to help revive us.”

She gulped down more tea. “I’m so thirsty. As if I wasn’t nearly drowning earlier today. How long was I out?”

“An hour? Two, maybe? It’s hard to say. Long enough for me to find this place, start a fire, find some calla root to pack your wound, and make you healing tea.”

She froze with the mug halfway to her lips. “This is calla root tea?”

“Yes. Why?”

She tilted her chin up and met his gaze. Her green eyes were doe-like, her pupils blown wide. “How much did you use? It was smart to use it because it has almost supernatural healing effects, but you only need to use a small dose. You have to be careful not to take too much because of the strong aphrodisiac effect.”

Teddy froze.

“Teddy, how much did you use?”

He moved away from her, letting her sit on her own, trying to prepare himself for her reaction.

She fanned her flushed cheeks with her hands. “How much?”

“All of it. I didn’t know how much to use so I used three stalks.”

She groaned. “Men! Why do you always think more is better in all things?”

Teddy arched a brow, and she looked at the mug.

“Oh my gods. I’ve probably had a full stalk. No wonder I feel so—” Stella shivered and rubbed her hands down her arms.

A mixture of panic and fascination crept through Teddy’s mind. “What do I do?”

She gestured to the empty pitcher on the table. “I’m probably going to be?—”

“I know.” Teddy rubbed a hand down his face. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid.

“It’s supposed to get really bad unless you can—” She cleared her throat and looked away. “Unless you can find release. Usually more than once.”

Teddy stared at her. “No.”

She winced, hurt blooming in her eyes.

“You misunderstand,” Teddy said. “I would, but I’m not comfortable touching you when you’re under the influence.”

“I’ll be in pain. ”

“Can’t you just…touch yourself?”

Her cheeks went fiery red, and she looked away. Gods, that was fun. He hadn’t anticipated that Stella McKay was shy in bed.

He held her gaze. “Have you never touched yourself, Stella?”

Her cheeks burned brighter. “Of course I have. I just haven’t—” She abruptly stopped talking and stared into the cup.

Teddy grinned. “You normally have so much to say.”

“I’ve only ever been with Arden and I’ve tried to—oh, forget it. This is private,” she snapped.

Teddy placed a finger under her chin and guided her gaze to meet his. “I’m not making fun of you. I think you’re cute when you’re embarrassed because you’re usually so bossy. Please tell me what you meant.”

She took a deep breath. “I’ve never been able to make myself finish. It’s like I hit a wall. It gets too intense and then I can’t keep going.”

Just thinking about her alone in her bed trying to solve the complex puzzle of her body heated Teddy’s blood. This was not how he thought this was going to go. He thought he’d heal her, and she’d sleep it off, but now she was a few minutes from completely being under the spell of a powerful aphrodisiac.

She reached her thumb up and brushed something from the corner of his mouth. “Did you drink some, too?”

Teddy froze. “I tested to make sure it wasn’t too hot, but I chewed the root to make the poultice. It was too hard to try to mash it with my knife. I didn’t know it only took a bit, and I figured it would only help me recover from my near drowning.” He was suddenly aware of how fast his heart was beating. “Oh, no.”

Stella huffed a surprised laugh. “You might not be as affected, but I imagine you will feel it.”

Teddy stood abruptly, grabbed the rickety metal pitcher from the table, and stalked outside. He tried to ignore the heat building in his body as he pumped water from the well. It poured into the metal pitcher in spurts .

Teddy took three deep breaths of chilly air to steady himself. When he felt calm, he pressed back inside.

He tried to ignore the buzz in his chest and the need tugging on him as he crossed the room and poured water into a clean mug. Stella took it wordlessly and drank it all down, holding his gaze the whole time.

Stella placed the mug on the nightstand. She shivered again. The shirt was still damp and stuck to her skin, her pink nipples pushing against the thin fabric.

“I’m hot all over,” she said. She twisted her wild hair up on top of her head and jammed a few pins in it to hold it in place.

Teddy sat down on the edge of the bed and pressed a hand to her forehead. She was burning up.

When he drew back, her gaze was hooded and entirely focused on him. She crawled across the bed to where he sat and pressed him onto his back.

“Stella, what are you?—”

She straddled his lap and kissed him.

The whole world disappeared.

Gods, he was so weak. Teddy let her blot out every memory of the terror of the day, her mouth moving insistently against his. Let her make him feel alive again. Let her wind her fingers through his hair and sink her teeth into his bottom lip. But when she started to roll her hips against him, his brain caught up to what was happening.

“Stella,” he rasped.

She pulled back and met his gaze, her lips bitten, her neck and cheeks flushed, and her pupils huge—a reminder that she didn’t want him. She was just under the influence of a heart bond and a very strong aphrodisiac that he should have known not to give her so much of.

“I need—” She brought his hand up to cup her breast. “I need to be touched. I ache everywhere.”

Teddy cursed, tossing her off his lap and onto the bed. The bond in his chest felt like a tether drawing him to her.

“I need you,” she whined .

The tug in his heart was insistent. His cock strained against his pants, his whole body buzzing with desire, the herbal high, and Stella’s need through the bond.

Clastor’s sword! Was this how it felt to be bonded—like you had to fulfill every need of the person you were attached to? It felt less an option than a necessity, but he’d be damned if he’d do something when she was high.

Stella licked her lips and stared up at him in excitement. His shirt was riding up her thighs as she writhed on the sheets.

Fuck. He could imagine those strong legs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her. Could picture her calves hooked over his forearms, his hands fastened to her waist as he thrust into her.

He needed a cold bath or a drink, or both. He was worried about everything outside these cabin walls, but this woman was the thing with the true power to destroy him.

Now he could finally admit that he wanted to touch her, wanted to see her come undone at his hands, but he wouldn’t do that unless she wanted it with a clear mind. He wouldn’t have her blaming anything but her own desire for whatever happened between them.

“Stella, I can’t touch you when you’re in this state.”

“Please,” she whined, grabbing his hands and pulling them to her thighs.

“You’re high.”

Things were getting out of hand. Teddy needed a way to stop her from touching him because he was weak and pathetically susceptible to her enticement.

He stood abruptly and grabbed his belt. Stella whined until he came back to the bed and climbed on top of her. She spread her legs and hooked her thighs over his hips. Teddy cursed, burying his face in her neck to groan as she bucked against him.

He was fighting a losing battle against his desire, but he forced himself to pin her hands above her head, wrap his belt around them, and tie them tightly to the bed frame.

Stella looked up at him, her face and neck flushed, her eyes hooded .

She was beautiful like that, and she needed him .

“No way,” he said, jerking himself away from her.

“Come back,” she whined.

Teddy crossed the room and went straight outside. He stood in the cold for an hour, listening to her muffled whining through the door.

Finally, when she was quiet and the heat in his body had cooled from an inferno to a bonfire, he stepped back into the cabin.

Stella was asleep. Her head lolled against her arm, Teddy’s shirt rumpled around her thighs. Her face was soft, but her cheeks were still rosy, and he was relieved that she looked so vital.

Teddy slumped into the plush chair by the fire and finally gave in to his exhaustion.