a chocolate for each lady. Some of them contained poison, there was no way to tell which were safe to eat. Those who refused were forced.” He’s silent as I speak, and his face gives nothing away, but his body is vibrating with tension. All of a sudden, it’s like his control snaps, and he is growling and pacing the space inside the shield, his hands clenching and unclenching. He speaks in a guttural language I don’t understand, looking up at the sky occasionally and, with surprise, I realise he’s praying. Barking out a harsh word, he darts forward and punches the wall that surrounds the fountain. He shouts that word again as he cradles his hand against his chest. Yup, definitely a swear word.
Raising my eyebrows, I step forward and hold out my hand, gesturing for him to let me see his injury. He stares at me, frowning and panting, before slowly placing his hand in mine. Tor stills as I run my fingers over his already bruising knuckles, holding his breath while I examine him.
“I don’t think you’ve broken anything, but your hand will be swollen and bruised for a while.” Letting go of his hand, I try to take a step back, but he reaches out to stop me. I glance up and realise just how close we are standing. I should feel uncomfortable, but the connection between us is practically humming with pleasure.
“How do you know so much about broken bones?”
I move the cuff on my arm and show him my slave marks. “This is how.” His eyes darken and his hand tightens on my arm. He’s seen the marks before, so I’m not sure why he’s so angry. “I had to learn to care for myself,” I explain, fixing the cuff back into place. A thought comes to me as I stare down at the jewellery. “Do you want to know a secret?”
Tor stills, as if he knows how big of a deal it is for me to be sharing this with him. I don’t know where this thought came from, or why I feel comfortable sharing this with him, but it just feels right.
“Yes, please,” he answers quietly, as if he’s afraid he’ll scare me off if he speaks too loudly.
“When I was younger, I wished I could be a healer.” I lift my head as I talk, a slight smile coming to my face as I admit my childhood dream. That was before my hopes and dreams had been beaten out of me. “I wanted to help people. I had forgotten about that.”
He doesn’t say anything, just continues to stare at me. Growling, he raises a hand and rubs it along the shaved part of his head, the tattoos there standing out in the moonlight. I want to ask what they say, what they mean, but that seems too personal, so I bite my lip and cross my arms under my cloak. I watch him as he stalks around the small space once again, growling and muttering words I don’t understand as he tries to come to terms with what he’s learned. I stay silent, letting him work through his thoughts, but I can see him getting more and more angry.
“I knew the king was twisted, especially after the slaves and killing his own wife, but I didn’t think even he would do something like this.” He swears again and suddenly hurries over to my side, placing a hand on my shoulder. Usually I would shy away from so much physical contact, and although he startles me, he doesn’t scare me. “You need to leave with me tonight, I can protect you.”
I want to, part of me is screaming to say yes, to go with him and escape this place and its evil king, but I know I can’t. “I can’t leave, not yet,” I say with a shake of my head. I know he won’t understand, but I promised Vaeril and I can’t leave without him. There is still so much I want, no, need to do here before I can leave. If I went now, I might never see Grayson again, and I’m not sure I could live with myself if I couldn’t at least explain why I left.
“He could kill you,” Tor states plainly, and I nod.
“He could,” I agree, needing him to understand. “But I survived the last twelve years as a slave. That’s supposed to be impossible, so I’d say I have a pretty good track record.” If