Page 119 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire

“My place,” Rhyan said, looking uneasy.

“How long—?”

“Not even fifteen minutes.” His jaw tensed. “I’m going to get you cleaned up. Just relax.”

I let my head fall down on his pillow. It smelled like him, that unique scent of musk and trees. I felt dizzy lying there and looked down at his sheets. I was getting blood everywhere. I tried to push myself up onto my elbows, but Rhyan was immediately by my side.

“Don’t move,” he said.

“Your sheets,” I said weakly.

Rhyan shrugged. “Just blood. It’ll wash out. Try not to move until I get you patched up.” He sat beside me. “First, I need to remove the bandage on your back.”

“The what?” I asked.

“The bandage. The one I tied around you in the hallway,” he said.

My mind raced. Gods. He’d removed my tunic…tied a bandage around me to protect my back…because it had been splayed open.

I inhaled sharply, fear suddenly overwhelming me. The scars, the bruises, the hurts I carried from two years of Meera’s visions….

No. Every scar on my back, every bruise, could be explained from tonight, from the lashing. But still…still I felt the panic rise inside me. I felt the scar on my wrist flame with fire.

Remember your oath. Remember, or suffer the consequences.

He’d started to guess earlier. He’d seen the evidence of Meera’s punch to my face and the limp I’d gotten running to her, and he’d blamed Tristan. I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Is that all right?” Rhyan asked. “Taking off the bandage?”

“Um,” I said, my chest tightening.

“I’ll be as gentle as I can. Promise. I’ve…had to treat these sorts of wounds before.”

“Rhyan, I….” I trailed off, panicking. What was I going to say? Please don’t treat my wounds. Let me do it myself. Also, forget what you saw earlier. He wouldn’t. And I couldn’t do this on my own. I could barely move. I was probably seconds away from passing out again.

“You’re going to be all right,” he said. “You’re safe with me now. It’s over.” He slid off the bed, crouching next to it so his face was just inches from mine. “I’m sorry. So sorry I couldn’t stop that from happening to you. I wish I could have.” He shook his head, swallowing roughly. “I won’t let anything or anyone else hurt you tonight. I swear.”

I sniffled, terrified, my body shaking and convulsing uncontrollably. But I nodded.

His jaw clenched, and one hand reached forward. His fingers pushed my hair off my face, smoothing it behind my ear. “I have some moonleaf candles I can light. They might help.”

I winced, a sharp pain running through my head. “Do you have the leaves?” I asked. “If you burn them, they work faster.” I’d learned this trick to help soothe Morgana’s headaches.

One eyebrow lifted in surprise, but he nodded and moved through the room, gathering the leaves and lighting them in a bowl. The scent immediately filled the air, and I relaxed. A little.

The mattress dipped beside me as Rhyan sat back down.

“Lyr,” he said. “Tell me honestly. Should I get someone else here to be with you? Do you want Lord Tristan?”

“No,” I whispered.

His expression tightened, his mind no doubt on his earlier accusation.

“I want you,” I said.

He nodded, his jaw muscles working.

“It’s not what you think. Not because he hurt me. I…I can’t explain now…it all hurts.”