Captive of Wolves (Bound to the Fae #1) - Eva Chase Page 0,71
make sure the gauze doesn’t need changing.”
He crouches down beside me, his fingers gliding over the wrapped fabric as he examines it. Heat courses up over my skin, and I think a gleam of desire passes through his golden eyes, but he doesn’t look up at me or make any further move.
What happened between us that once, he obviously doesn’t mean it to happen again. It was only a kiss, even if it feels like much more than that.
Sylas marches over to where we’re standing, his attention fixed on August. Something in his stride and the intensity in his expression sends an uneasy ripple of recognition through me, though I can’t say why. “Does her wound require more attention?” he asks.
“Not yet, from what I can tell,” August says. “The binding of the flesh I managed appears to be holding.”
“Good. Let’s proceed with care.” Sylas steps closer, his gaze rising to meet mine, and just for an instant, something flashes through his unscarred eye. A flicker of heat in the darkness that solidifies my sense of recognition.
The way he stalked over just now reminded me of how August approached me yesterday by the pool: predatory and possessive. That flicker wasn’t far off from the searing look the younger man gave me before he kissed me.
It’s gone now, though, only grim weariness left. Maybe I imagined it, or maybe it was merely concern because of my injury. I am still an object of value here, even if Sylas sees me as a person in my own right who’s worthy of protection, more than just a means to an end.
“I’ll construct another brace for you,” he says. “Assuming you found the first one suitable?”
“Yes,” I say, my gut knotting at the much less pleasant memory of how that first one was broken. “It helped a lot. But you don’t have to go to any trouble—I still have the crutch—”
He waves off my concerns before I’ve even finished expressing them. “It’s a small thing to offset the fate you nearly met last night.”
We haven’t talked about what led to that horrifying moment—about my attempt to escape—other than Sylas replacing the magical lock on the front door and confirming I had no more salt to break the spells. He hasn’t pushed the subject, and I’ll admit I’ve been nervous about bringing it up myself. What if he’s angry with me underneath all his authoritative poise?
I do want to make one thing clear. “Have you had any luck with testing that sample of blood you took from me? If you need more to try other things—anything I can do to help you figure out how it works…” And how that effect might be replicated, so I’m no longer such a precious commodity as well as a person…
“I’ll let you know if anything comes of it or if I require more from you,” Sylas says, in a tone that indicates he hasn’t discovered anything all that useful yet.
Disappointment winds through my ribs, but I raise my chin against it. I might want the fae lord’s protection, but I don’t think it’ll help my situation if I take on too much of the role of a victim.
Sylas taps my jaw with the lightest of caresses, and I’d swear another flicker of heat unfurls in his one dark eye. “You should get yourself some rest, little scrap. I don’t imagine you had much last night. August, I need to speak with you.”
The younger man hurries to follow his lord down the hall, shooting me a quick, reassuring smile over his shoulder. I swallow hard. He’d better not be getting into even more trouble over how he protected me.
Whitt sweeps across the room a moment later. He pauses by me, observing me watching his two comrades. His teasing voice comes out with more edge than usual. “Plotting which of us to off next, mite?”
I wince and hug myself tighter. “I didn’t—Even with Kellan, I never wanted—”
A glint dances in Whitt’s blue eyes, coolly amused and maybe a little unsteady. Not really how I’d expect a man to look minutes after putting a close colleague to rest. I remember the flask I saw him retrieving. Is he even sober?
He isn’t even a man. None of them are. I have to keep remembering that, no matter what else happens.
“We like you more than we liked him,” he says with a chuckle. “That isn’t saying much, so I wouldn’t let it go to your head.”