Unbound by Kay Danella

Author:Kay Danella
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.
Published: 2010-09-06T16:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

The remainder of the walk to the Castel passed without incident. Romir kept to the side corridors, avoiding the bubble cars and the more brightly lit areas, even backtracking in order to do so. They eventually gained the Castel’s bay, still shrouded in a thick mist of anomalous darkness that extended from his body.

Asrial’s heart thundered in her ears, dread an efficient amplifier. She couldn’t imagine how much that expenditure of power cost him. His form was reminiscent of that time his prison had nearly reclaimed him. Only the solidity of the arms supporting her assured her of his continued freedom.

Once they were aboard the Castel, the mist disappeared, withdrawing into Romir and leaving him standing whole, once more clad only in loose pants. He brought her straight to her cabin, not releasing her until he laid her on her bunk.

Her limbs prickled, a barrage of excruciating sensation as the stunner’s effect eased, her nerves protesting the return of mobility. Gasping, she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting to hold back tears of relief. But they leaked out in spite of her.

“Asrial? What—” The dismay in Romir’s voice forced her eyes open. His hands hovered above her, hesitant and trembling. “I have no skill with healing weaves. You must tell me what is wrong.”

“I’m fine.”

“Do not say that when even a blind man can tell you are in pain.” The furrow between his slashing black brows deepened, his eyes glinting silver amid all the white.

A soft, breathless laugh escaped her at his fluster. He had suffered untold pain and loss yet worried over a minor matter like this. “This is normal.” Volsung must have blasted her more than once, but stunner hangover wouldn’t kill her—it only felt like it should.

Grimacing, Romir left her side to disappear into the bio unit. Her heart skipped a beat at his absence. Spirit of space, keep him free.

He returned with a wet rag and used it on her face, removing any evidence of tears. The dampness was welcome, as was the cleaning. From the black muck, Volsung’s men must have stashed her some place dirty before they dumped her in that cabin.

Romir was gentle, his touch light, handling her as though she were some precious artifact he feared to scratch. He stripped her of her T-top with equal care and turned his attention to wiping her throat and shoulders.

“How’d you find me?” she finally thought to ask when he returned from rinsing out the rag yet again.

“This.” He tapped the enameled square between her breasts.

Heat rushed to her cheeks at being discovered. Hopefully he’d think she wore it as a memento of her mother. “That’s how you found me? How?”

“A weaver’s badge is wrought with the blood of the weaver. This was mine, so I can sense it.”

“You knew . . . I was wearing it?”

Romir nodded absently, intent on cleaning her. “It is good you wore it.”

He’d known all this time? He hadn’t said anything.

She stared at his impassive face, searching for a clue to interpret that good.

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