“Thank gods.” She collapsed back on the bed, relief evident in her face. Then she lifted her head, looking at him suspiciously. “Did you read it?”
He shook his head. He’d wanted to. Gods, how he’d wanted to know what was within the crumpled envelope bearing her name. But guilt over getting her into this situation had hounded him, and he’d been unable to open it. His desire to do right by Esha now warred with his rage against Aurora.
He still had to kill Aurora, there was no choice in that. Who was to say that she wouldn’t repeat her past, threatening mortals and Mytheans alike? There was more at stake here than just his soul or the soulceress who had started to work her way into his head.
“You should rest,” he said.
“I want my letter.”
“After you rest. There’s nothing that can be done now, with you in this state.”
“Might I remind you that you owe me? The least you can do is give me that letter, since I’m in this state because I’m trying to help you.”
“I know that. But you need to rest.”
“You don’t know what I need.” Her eyes flashed at him, stronger than the rest of her body—an eerie reminder that she didn’t need to be physically strong to fuck with him. Her magic would do that just fine.
“Aye, I do. The healer told me. Nothing that will set back your progress. And how do you know the letter isn’t enchanted to cause problems when it’s opened?”
She frowned. He could tell from her face that what he’d said had hit home.
She pursed her lips, and her brows drew together over her eyes. “Fine. Tomorrow. But what am I supposed to do until then?”
“Rest. Get your strength up.”
“By staring at the wall? I’ve been sleeping for more than a day. I’m getting out of bed.” With a determined look on her face, she heaved herself up off the pillows.
“Doona!” He stepped forward, arms outstretched to stop her.
“Ow!” Grimacing, she lowered herself gingerly back onto the pillows. “Damn, that creepy stone claw did a number on me, didn’t it?”
“Aye. You’ll be out for at least another day. Should be able to walk by tomorrow morning.”
She frowned at him. “I should be healed by now. What kind of cut-rate healer did you hire, anyway?”
How could she think he wouldn’t make sure she had the best? But the sight of her laid out in bed, still pale and drawn from the pain, nearly made him bark out a cynical laugh. Of course she didn’t trust him to take care of her. He’d gotten her into this mess. Hounded her until she’d given in and put her life in danger to help him.
“I’m sorry, lassie. She was one of the best, but your injuries are unusual. You won’t heal as fast as you normally would, but she did the best she could.”
“Oh, that just sucks.” Her eyes rolled back in her head. It was obvious she hated being confined like this. Inactivity was as familiar to her as the moon.
“I’ll bring you some books. Or a TV,” he said.
“What, you don’t think I like to read?”
“Doona know. I’m just trying to help.”
She looked at him strangely, eyes roving over his face as she thought about his words. “Really?”
“Aye.”
“Well then, how about a game of cards later?”
She wanted to play a game with him? “For stakes?”
“Maybe. Why not?”
“Um, aye. That’s fine.” How high could the stakes be, after all?