He Walks in Dreams by Darcy Carson

Author:Darcy Carson [Carson, Darcy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dragon, fantasy, romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2019-04-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Shadows flickered across the olive complexion of Marina’s patient. She’d held vigil over the Sandblood the first night and through the next day, leaving his side only to speak with Narud and cook a potage from rabbit leftovers in case the man woke and found himself hungry. She’d sipped the broth several times. It was her first attempt to prepare a complete meal by herself, and her success tickled her delight. Each time she sipped, she sighed happily and wished Becca were here to taste her soup.

Through the window, dusk colored the sky with shades of oranges, yellows, and reds. Her skin tingled. She sensed Narud’s departure as the moon peeked between tree trunks in the east. Duran would arrive any moment.

Leather supports creaked on the cot. She turned to look at her patient. He grimaced as he tried to sit up, only to sag down. She stood still, afraid to startle him. When he spotted her, though, his hands fumbled for his missing scarf. Her gaze slid to the covering on the table, where Duran had dropped it.

“Nice to see you awake,” she said in a pleasant tone.

His cuts stopped oozing the instant his eyes opened. She’d never seen anything like it before.

“What’s your name, good sir? Do you know where you are?” She had hoped the questions helped him focus, for all he did was stare at her.

Ebony eyes sparkled. “Fahid, Sand born and bred, and where I am, I was hoping perchance you could tell me, sweet miss.”

“How is he?” she heard from behind her.

Duran’s voice. An unexpected thrill swept through her insides.

“Ask him yourself.” She smiled. “He’s awake.”

Duran retrieved the face scarf on his way across the room and handed it to the man. “What happened to you?”

She absorbed every detail about Duran. Undeniably handsome, strong, quick-witted, compassionate, he would make some woman a loving husband—even though he could be intractable, hardnosed, and seldom changed his mind once set.

She had missed him. Had a single day really passed since last seeing him? It seemed forever. Could it be because the deeper into summer, the shorter the nights?

Fahid accepted the covering, reaching behind his head to secure the ends into place. “Nothing to tell, good sir.” The decorative covering fluttered with his breath.

“Left for dead is nothing? I would have plenty to say about that.”

“I am indebted to you.” The Sandblood struggled to his feet, holding onto the cot for balance. “My experience will allow me to add another symbol to my sharf.”

Duran frowned. “Sharf? That’s what your face cloth is called? I hear you record significant events on it.”

“We do.”

Silence stretched in the room.

“An interesting way to chronicle history,” Duran finally said.

“It is.” Another bland answer.

Marina went to the river rock fireplace to stir the ingredients in the suspended kettle with a big wooden spoon. She scooped potage broth into cups. Duran could use nourishment after his transformation, and she suspected their guest needed to recuperate from his ordeal as well.

She nearly dropped Fahid’s plate

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