The return to the cabin was a blur of rain, pain, and humiliation.
Kaelen kicked the front door open with a force that rattled the hinges, carrying me inside like a wet, muddy sack of flour. He marched straight to the fireplace, kicking the dying embers into a roar, then dumped me unceremoniously onto the leather sofa.
I gasped as my broken ankle jarred against the cushions.
"Stay," he barked.
He stomped to the washbasin, grabbing a towel and a bottle of amber liquid—whiskey, or maybe disinfectant. He grabbed a roll of linen bandages from a shelf.
He looked terrifying. He was still naked, his bronze skin slick with rain and smeared with mud. His hair hung in wet strands over his eyes, which were glowing with a residual, angry gold light.
He knelt in front of m
