Bound to the Battle God - Ruby Dixon Page 0,91

the rest of the water from the pitcher into the tub. It's all lukewarm, but it's the first genuine bath I've had since I got to this hellish land, and I plan on enjoying every bit of it. I sink down into the tiny tub, my knees practically at my tits, and sigh, closing my eyes.

"Do you have to do that?"

I don't even open my eyes. "Do what?"

"Make those noises."

I crack open one eye and glance at him. He's got a perturbed look on his face, as if he can't quite figure me out. I'm about to ask just what noises he's referring to when his gaze flicks to my breasts. Oh.

A wild thought occurs to me—did he watch me while I undressed like I watched him? I ignore the funny squiggle of heat in my belly and sink down lower into the tub, because the last thing I need is to get hot and heavy with someone like Aron. The incident at the Citadel already made things awkward. I don't need them being even more so. "Just leave me alone and let me wash, all right?"

He grunts a response, and then I hear the jingle of his bracers as he puts them on again. Probably for the best.

I make my bath as quick as possible, scrubbing myself hard and giving my hair a quick rinse. I'm a little horrified at all the dirt rising in the water, but that can't be helped. At least it's now in the water and not on me. Once I'm done bathing, I step out of the tub and grab Aron's wet towel, noticing that he dressed while I bathed.

I dress, too, in my one change of clothing. It's an old gray tunic of Omos's that goes past my knees. I think it's meant to have trousers of some sort under it, but mine are dirty. I just wear it as a dress anyhow. It's not like it's sexy.

Of course, I don't think sexy matters to anyone in this land. They'd rape me if I was covered in dog poop, I think. I shudder at the thought and stuff my dirty clothes into my bag, and glance over at Aron. He's busy polishing his weapons and strapping them onto his forearms, as if we're going to be going somewhere in the next few hours. I guess being comfortable doesn't matter if you don't sleep, though. I examine my shoes. I have a pair of leather sandals that seem to be more straps than protection, and a pair of old boots that are a little too big but protect my feet. I'm wondering which ones I should wear tomorrow for more snooping around the city when there's a heavy thump at the wooden door to our room.

Aron and I both look at each other.

I slip my boots on, unlaced, and then get to my feet as someone jiggles the door. It has to be either a drunk or a person making a mistake. I open my mouth to call out only to find a hand over my lips. Aron.

“Quiet,” he murmurs into my ear. “That’s not the innkeeper.”

His hand slides away from my mouth and it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him how he knows, when someone screams below. Not a small scream, a long, brutal scream—that cuts off abruptly in midstream.

Oh fuck.

More screaming starts, and the door to the room thumps again, the handle jiggling as if someone’s desperate to get inside. “He’s in there,” shouts a voice. “Burn the place down if you have to, but get him!”

Aron and I exchange a look.

Immediately we separate and grab our things. The screaming downstairs gets louder, except it’s not just one voice, it’s a dozen of them. The door’s not shaking anymore, but when I look over, I see a wisp of black smoke.

Aron grabs my arm, hauling me against him. “Time to go.”

Even as he touches me, I can feel the weapons covering his arms and his belt practically clanks from the knives hidden there. “Should we stay and fight? I mean, you are a god of battle.”

“And I know when a war cannot be won.” He glances around the room, his gaze lighting on the enormous window shutters. “We both know it’s not me that’s in danger.”

Oh fuck, that’s right. Another scream pierces through the night and I feel sick. “What do we do?”

Aron points at the window. “Out to the roof.”

I get a flashback of when we fell from