“Did you doubt I would be?” He drops the deer near the fire and starts pulling out his own knife to dress it.
“Maybe a little.” I watch him work, marveling at his efficiency. “With you around, I will never have to worry about going hungry,” I say gleefully.
Something shifts in his expression at my words; there’s a pleased satisfaction that he tries to hide but doesn’t quite manage to. The corner of his mouth slants upward in what could almost be called smugness.
Leaning against a tree trunk, I watch him cook the meat. My body is aching, and I can feel the fever creeping up again. I’ve run out of the herbal paste, and the infection keeps getting worse. I need a healer or a tonic, but I don’t have access to either.
I wasn’t lying to Lucian when I said I don’t mind dying. For the past few
