His quiet words unsettle me. I give the fabric another vicious twist, and more water trickles out. “Why would they? I’m a slave.”
“You were a slave. Now you’re my wife.”
“Seems like that’s your job then, doesn’t it?” He doesn’t respond to my offhand joke, and I grow even more flustered. “You can still get rid of me, by the way. I won’t hold it against you.”
“More lies.”
“I’m full of them, yes.” I chuckle. “But I mean it. If we’re not meant to be, then we’re not meant to be. I’ve had greater disappointments.”
He just eyes me. “You’re my wife.” He states the words again, calm and assured. “And I am thanking my wife for healing me.”
I set the wet fabric down and wipe my sweating brow. “Thank you. It means a lot.” I take back everything I said about his earlier crankiness. This sincerity unnerves me. I don’t know how to react. I can joke and be cheerful and lie whenever he’s being impossible, but I don’t know what to say when he’s earnest like that. I automatically wonder what he wants to hear, and my mind starts to come up with ideas…but most of them don’t feel as sincere as his careful words, so I keep them locked in my throat.
So I manage a small smile and wring out the fabric one final time before draping it over the makeshift clothesline I’ve created in the back of the cavern, strung between two statues with arms upraised.
“Valessa?”
I pat the wet fabric, smoothing it over the line and turn back to him. He probably needs pain medicine. “Yes?”
But Ranan is eyeing me with an intense, thoughtful gaze, all four arms folded across his chest. “I am unfamiliar with…humans. If I were to take care of you, what would that look like?”
I frown, moving towards the small fire pit I’ve made in a shallow basin of smooth rock. I find the gorgeous steel kettle with the ornate engraved designs and put it into the coals. Maybe I’ll fix him regular tea, not the medicinal kind. Or a stew. I still have some of the jerky he brought for me. I can soak it and make a beef broth—
“Vali?”
I blush, flustered. “I’m not sure what you’re asking. What do you mean, take care of me? You did when I had my menses.”
“Not like that. Like…the way you take care of me,” he continues, words chosen oh-so-carefully. His gaze never wavers from being locked upon mine. “With your mouth.”
Oh. He wants to take care of me in bed? My face grows hotter. “I suppose it would be much the same. You have a mouth, too, after all.”
“Has anyone done this for you?”
I hesitate before answering. My past with sex is fraught. I’ve been a slave ever since I was old enough to have sex, and I was eager to marry because it meant pleasing only one man instead of whomever decided they wanted to toy with me at the master’s house. I do enjoy sex, though, most of the time. I enjoy giving pleasure, and sometimes it feels good to rub up against another person. But pleasuring me back? Pleasuring me? Just me? “You recall I was a slave.”
“So…no? No one has done this for you?”
“No.” It takes everything I have to meet his gaze. “And I’ve never asked, either.”
“Will you let me do that for you?”
“What, right now?” I glance down at his leg.
“Not right now. When I’m stronger.” He leans back against the wall of pillows. “We’ll do it then.”
“Of course.” But for now, I can take care of him. Unsettled, I move to his side and adjust some of the pillows against his back before they slide away. “Let me just—”
He grabs my hand before I can reach behind him, and forces me to meet his gaze. “Are you lying?”
My cheeks feel scalding hot. “No. Not lying. If you still want to, then we will.”
“I’ll want to.”
What can I possibly say to that? I bite back a shy smile.
Chapter
Twenty
RANAN
Ihate lying on my back like a beached whale. I feel helpless, and pathetic, and my limbs twitch with the need to do something. I need to swim, to hunt, to walk…anything. Instead, I lie here and feel my bad leg throb in time with my heartbeat.
I lie about while my wife runs herself ragged around the cave, taking care of me.
My wife. I taste the words and I rather like them. They’re strange, much like a new hunting knife or uncharted waters, but I don’t mind it. I’m grateful to Vali. She’s saved my life in multiple ways. Not only did she come after me, but she’s worked on healing me. If I’d been alone…the flotilla would have run across my bleached bones eventually.
I glance over at Vali, who is working on some sewing nearby. There are hollows under her eyes from lack of sleep and she yawns as she stitches, but even now, she works. There is hot tea bubbling and a soup of seaweed, fish, and clams simmering over the coals in a kettle. She never stops to rest, even when she’s falling over with fatigue, and I admire her more with every day that passes.
True, she might lie as easily as she smiles, but Vali has more good qualities than bad. Her actions tell me more than her words ever would. I can learn a lot from her. Not the lying, of course, but the determination. The strength to push through even when I’m exhausted.
It’s time for me to do something.
The way I see it, there are two routes to my recovery. I can lie here, useless, and hope that my leg works properly after I have slowly healed, or I can test it now. If it can support my weight, we go to the flotilla sooner rather than later. I see the healer there. I marry Vali in front of my parents so she no longer questions me. I return home with a happy, eager wife.
I like that version of events much more than the other.
So I sit up and curl the toes on my bad leg, testing things. Pain lances through me, but all my toes obey—some more than others. It’s a good thing, though. I try to push off the floor as normal and am unable to do so, however. I glance over at Vali. “Help me up?”
“Wait? What? No!” My pretty little wife scrambles to her feet, tossing aside her sewing. She races to my side, an intense frown on her face. “Lie back down! You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I’ve lain down long enough. I want to test my leg.”
“Ranan, no.”
“Valessa, yes.” I hold a hand up to her. “Are you going to help me or are you going to sit and watch me do this on my own?”
She scowls, but holds out her hand. “You’re a stubborn bastard. If you bust the stitches, I’m going to be incredibly pissed at you.”
If I bust the stitches, it’ll make the choice easy at least. I’ll have no recourse but to lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about the sea dragon that even now lurks far too close to my territory. I haven’t told Vali about it yet because I don’t want her to panic. Truth is, once I’ve recovered, we’re leaving this place. If the waters here aren’t safe enough for a sea-ogre, they’re certainly not going to be safe enough for a delicate human female who can barely swim in a shallow puddle.
I take Vali’s hand and she braces her feet wide apart. Even though I’m twice her weight, having her to balance myself against helps and I’m able to heft myself to my feet. I keep my weight off my bad leg and gingerly test putting my toes down on the stone floor of the cavern.
“The stitches look like they’re holding so far.” She sounds proud.