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Refuge(88)

By:Karen Lynch


He took a step toward me. “I didn’t say you were – ”

“Just forget it.” I put up a hand, and my sleeve chafed painfully against my burnt arm. Biting my lip did not stop the whimper of pain that escaped me.

Concern replaced the anger in Nikolas’s eyes. “We need to get you to the medical ward.”

I turned for the door. “I don’t need your help. I can get there on my own.”

“I’m coming with you.”

I pushed open the door. “No, you’re not. Just leave me alone.”

I could barely see through my tears as I hurried to the main building, and I didn’t know if they were tears of pain, anger, or hurt. I felt miserable on too many levels to try to separate my emotions, and all I wanted was to put some distance between me and Nikolas.

The healer on duty was the same one who had tended to me the first time I’d been burned by Alex, and she shook her head when she saw my charred sleeve. Before she looked at my arm, she gave me some gunna paste, and for once, I took it without complaint. Within minutes, the pain receded, and as soon as I relaxed she set to work removing my shirt and coating the burn with the same cool salve she had used the last time. Then she wrapped my numb arm in a soft gauze bandage and helped me back into my shirt, ordering me to lie still for a few minutes.

When the door opened a few minutes later, I turned my head, expecting to see the healer, but saw Nikolas instead. His expression was unreadable, and I turned my head to look up at the ceiling. “I’m really not up to arguing with you again, Nikolas.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine. I’ve had worse injuries, remember?”

“I remember,” he said in a gruff voice.

Neither of us spoke for a minute, and the silence in the room quickly unsettled me. Feeling vulnerable in my current position, I sat up, letting my legs dangle over the side of the exam table. I held up my bandaged arm. “Look, all taken care of. I’ll be as good as new in no time.”

He did not smile, still wound up from the incident. I didn’t understand why he got so angry over these things. No one else had made a big deal of it.

“You don’t have to stay with me. The healer said I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

My jaw dropped. Did I hear that right? Did Nikolas just apologize to me?

“I never meant to make you feel useless. It just angers me to see you taking risks like that.”

I tried not to let my own anger resurface. “What do you expect me to do – hide out in my room so I don’t get hurt? I can’t be safe all the time. You have to realize that I will get hurt sometimes, especially if I become a warrior.”

The glint in his eyes told me I had said the wrong thing again. “I thought you didn’t want to be a warrior.”

I threw up my good arm. “What am I training for, if not to become one? Isn’t that what we do?”

He started walking toward me. “I’m teaching you to defend yourself if you ever need it, not to go out looking for trouble.”

“I’m not looking for trouble, and that thing with Alex was a freak accident. It could have happened to anyone.” I looked away from him and hugged my stomach with my uninjured arm. After all the progress I’d made in training this week, did he think I was totally useless? “Why is it so hard for you to believe I can take care of myself? I’m not a child, you know.”

He stopped two feet away, and I discovered that my seat on the exam table put our gazes at the same level for once. Unfortunately, that meant I had nowhere to look but into his eyes.

“No, you are not a child.” His husky words made my mouth dry up like the Sahara. The air in the room grew warm and thick, and I suddenly found it hard to breathe.

Another step and he stood between my knees, close enough for me to feel his body heat and smell his warm, spicy scent. My heart pounded in my ears; I tried to swallow and failed. In my stomach a troupe of acrobats were having the performance of their lives.

Nikolas’s stormy gaze refused to release mine. His hand rose, and his thumb traced my jaw in a featherlike caress that turned my limbs to noodles. Dimly, I felt my Mori stirring. “Sara,” he said in a strained voice as he touched his forehead to mine. I sat very still, battling the onslaught of emotions that threatened to push my heart from my chest. “Yell at me. Tell me to go,” he whispered.

I brought my hands up between us and laid them flat against his chest to push him away, until I felt the strong rapid beat of his heart beneath my fingers. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. “Nikolas, I . . . ”