Mark of Love (Love Mark #3) - Linda Kage Page 0,81

he’d alerted anyone to our whereabouts. We really would’ve had to kill him then. And I’d prefer to leave the Outer Realms without any blood on my hands. I didn’t want to succumb to the Graykey stereotype that we were just a brood of murderers.

But Indigo must’ve caught on to the sensation of relief rushing from me, because he paused, glancing up curiously. I hoped he didn’t rightly—er, wrongly—assume I’d been worried about him because I cared, or anything. Since I definitely didn’t care. Not at all. Not even about how incredibly attractive he was.

Water dripped off clumps of wet hair spiking from his head, and his clothes held damp spots that stuck to his torso, revealing cut muscles I’d never seen on him before. Dear God, but who knew his tunic had been hiding such nicely defined shoulders and biceps.

Clearing my throat, I sat up a little straighter and reenacted one of Melaina’s superior poses before saying, “So, you really did bathe after all?”

“Yeah.” He let out a refreshed sigh as he approached the fire, pausing before it to hold up his bound hands and warm his palms. “The spring water felt good, too. Almost couldn’t drag myself out again.”

Brow knitting as I focused on his cuffs, I shook my head, suddenly wondering—

“How the hell did you bathe with shackles on?”

His grin turned wicked. “I’ll gladly tell you. All you have to do is—”

“Never mind.” I slapped my empty stew bowl down on the log next to me and surged to my feet, glaring at him. “I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do,” he taunted to my back as I turned away and got to work, setting up my bedroll. “Just come here and I’ll whisper the secret in your ear.”

“How about you whisper it in my ear,” Melaina offered, curling her finger in an inviting gesture.

Indigo sent her a frown. “That’s a hard pass, thanks.”

Her leer fell. “What? Why?”

“You’ve drawn blood on my throat twice now. I’m not going anywhere near you.”

“Pfft.” She pushed to her feet to gather my empty bowl. As she took both hers and mine to the cleaning bucket to wash them, she added, “You’re not still put out about that, are you, darling? That’s all in the past now.”

“It was yesterday and this morning,” he reminded her dryly. “And besides…” He glanced my way. “Quilla doesn’t like it when you flirt with me.”

Spinning around with my bedding half prepared, I glared openly, ready to strangle the jerk for making such a crazy, slanderous claim. “The fuck if I care!”

“You do.” He smirked. “The moment she made her offer, your emotions raged out with fury. You did not like her making a move on your man.”

“As if,” I cried. “You are not my—”

“Yes, I am,” he murmured, leaving the fire to retrieve his own bedroll. Strolling my way, he added, “Whether you like it or not, I’m yours. Always and forever.”

I would have set him straight right there, but I got a little distracted by the way he kept approaching with his things, so I ended up demanding, “What do you think you’re doing with that? Don’t come near me with your bedding.”

“But I have to,” he said simply. “Because I’m sleeping here.” And he dropped his bedroll onto the ground just a foot from mine with a jarring thud that made me jump.

Grinding my teeth, I seethed. “No, you are not.”

“Yeah.” He sent me a wink. “I am.”

I pointed to the other side of the camp. Where he belonged. “If you don’t move your shit back over there right now—”

“You’ll what?” he countered with too much cheer. “Cut me? You’ve already threatened that. Never carried through. So I’m calling bullshit.”

He bent and began to set up his bedding.

I folded my arms over my chest and tapped my toe. I’d somehow lost my intimidating presence. And he was right, I wasn’t going to physically harm him. Though the idea was tempting.

So tempting.

What was worse, I couldn’t be the one to move my things. That would only show retreat and cowardice. He had to be the one to go.

Except I didn’t know how to convince him to do that.

Indigo finished his preparations and stood again, dusting his hands off on his hips as he loomed way too close for my comfort. He smelled like clean man, warm musk, and lickable—

Jesus, it just wasn’t right that he had to stand so close.

“What’re you so scared of?” he asked in a calm, curious voice that held no hint of