Page 39 of The Masked Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods 1)

I wake when the bed shifts next to my shoulder. I crack my eyes open and find Alice hovering close to my face, wet cloth in hand.

“This will probably sting,” she warns as she dabs the cloth to my neck.

Though I brace myself, the toxin from the barghest’s saliva makes the area especially tender. I fist my hands, pretending it doesn’t hurt. When Alice gets to a particularly tender spot, I arch my back slightly, cursing the Faerie beast to oblivion and back.

“I’m sorry,” Alice murmurs, “but you must stay still.”

She pushes her hand firmly to my chest, holding me in place as she cleans the wound. I focus on the feel of her palm against my skin, thankful when she’s finished.

I draw in a deep breath, wishing she hadn’t witnessed that.

“I don’t have a bandage,” she says, “but this will do for tonight.”

I recognize the square of cloth as a handkerchief Sabine embroidered. Alice must have found it in a drawer. Before I can stop her, she wraps it around my neck.

“Tomorrow, go into Kellington and see Thomas at the apothecary shop on the corner of Wellington and Main. He’s a retired army doctor and an old friend of my father’s. Tell him I sent you, and he’ll stitch your wound without asking questions. For now, this should stop the bleeding.”

“Alice,” I say raggedly, setting my hand on hers. “I need to tell you—”

“You don’t have to explain why you disappeared for three weeks and then showed up in this state. I’m not going to demand an explanation.”

“That’s not…” I gulp, unable to finish the sentence.

Now that Alice is finished with the urgent task of bandaging my wound, she begins to clean blood from less vital parts of my body.

She runs the cloth over my shoulders, rinsing it in the warm water as needed. She moves to my chest, and then to my abdomen.

My breath comes quicker, and the pain in my neck dulls to a low ache that’s easy to ignore.

Alice stills when my muscles clench under her hands. Slowly, her eyes move to my face. Though I wear the mask, I feel revealed.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” she asks quietly.

“Not uncomfortable,” I manage, pushing myself up on my elbows. “But you should stop.”

Her eyes dart down to my stomach before she looks back up. “I’m almost finished.”

“I’m not so close to death’s door that I’m not affected by your hands on me, Alice.” I try to say it lightly, but my voice is rough, betraying the truth of my words.

She lowers her gaze, dabbing again at my stained skin. “You think that it’s not distracting for me as well? But you’re covered in blood, and I’m not going to leave you like this. If I can control myself, I expect you should be able to do the same.”