He shoved out a heavy sigh and his body relaxed visibly, as if he’d simply willed it to do so.

“We’ll talk about what you did. Later,” he said. “You’re bleeding, and that’s more important. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Her chin was still up and Tori’s fierce essence was still guiding her. “I don’t need help from someone who thinks he has the right to shout at me. I’ll manage on my own.” She wasn’t sure how she was going to walk with the blood making her thighs stick together, but she’d find a way to fly before she would accept his help.

“I don’t have the right to shout, but I do have a duty to protect you. Letting enemy combatants chase you is exactly the opposite of that.”

“I didn’t ask you to do anything for me, including protecting me. I’ve been fine here without your help for years. I’ll be fine here after you’re gone.”

His eye twitched. His fists tightened.

The need to run away quivered through her legs again.

He must have sensed it, because he did that forced-relaxation thing one more time. His voice came out calm and quiet. “You’ll be fine only if we do as Brenya says. She brought me here for a reason, and part of that reason was because you all needed my help.”

“All of us need your help. Not just me. That means that it’s my duty to keep you safe so that you can do what Brenya brought you here to do.”

“There you go again, acting like my life is more important than your own.”

“It is. I don’t like it, but that’s the truth. You have skills I can only dream of having, and if anything were to happen to you, I’m afraid Brenya would be too weak to summon more help. Like it or not, you’re our only hope. I won’t let you die and make the people I love suffer because you’re too arrogant to accept my help.”

“And I won’t let you die, period.”

She shrugged, trying her hardest to pull off casual nonchalance. “Humans have short lives. Not much you can do about that.”

One second he was too far away to reach her and the next, his hands were around her arms, holding her close. His touch was careful but unbreakable. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, Grace.” His thumbs slid along the tender skin under her arm. “Please, just let me keep you safe. I need it like I need to breathe.”

“Because of your vow,” she said, suddenly remembering that he’d taken a vow to protect humans. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think what it would do to you if I risked my life.”

Vows were serious things. If he thought he’d broken his, she had no idea how much pain it might cause. She was safe, but she was finally starting to understand why he would freak out over one human trying to help him in combat.

“Then you’ll promise me that you’ll never do it again.” It wasn’t a question. In fact, it was nearly a demand.

Grace shook her head. “I’m not binding myself to you with promises. Brenya warned me.”

“She would want you to stay safe.”

“You don’t know her as well as I do. She would want me to do whatever I needed to do to make sure you stay alive. The lives of all those children in the villages depend on it.”

He stared at her for a long time, and she was sure she could see him working hard to gather patience. His jaw clenched again and again, and his fists flexed. Finally, in a tone that seemed far too calm, he said, “If that’s the case, then you need to continue to be my bodyguard. So sit down and let me take a look at those cuts. I need you in top fighting form.”

She tried to find a reason to argue with him, but his logic was too sound. She couldn’t even find a hint of condescension in his tone. “You mean it? You’re going to stop harping at me to be careful?”

He lifted one dark eyebrow. “Hardly. But now that I understand your motivation, I can deal with it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re going to sit down now so we can get those cuts cleaned up.”

He’d given in, but somehow it felt more like a trap than a victory.

Grace found a downed tree and perched on the trunk. Blood seeped from the deep scratches along the inside of her thighs. It wasn’t enough to be serious, but as her adrenaline faded, the pain increased fast.

Torr had left his pack behind somewhere. Grace was still toting hers on her back, proof that in the event of a fight she really didn’t know what she was doing. If she’d dropped the pack, maybe she could have run faster.

He pulled the bag’s strap over her head. The leather left a damp mark between her breasts where her sweat had soaked her tunic. The swirl of cool air felt good, easing a bit more of her body’s stress.

He ripped a piece of fabric from the bottom of his makeshift shirt and wet it with clean water. She held her hand out for the cloth, but he ignored that and started wiping the sticky blood away to assess the damage.

“I can do that,” she told him.

“So can I.” He pressed gently against her knees to get her to widen her thighs.

Grace felt the blush sweep over her cheeks. “I really don’t think you should be—”

“Hush. I’ve already seen you naked. Besides, if I was going to take you, it certainly wouldn’t be while your thighs are raw and battered.” His gaze caught hers and held on tight. “I want only pleasure for you, Grace. Never pain.”

The sheer power of the hunger in his eyes nearly did her in. She’d never seen blatant want like that before.

But she had felt it. Was starting to feel it again now.

Her mouth went dry.

He went about cleaning her wounds, his hands far more steady than hers.

“I wish I had the power to heal you,” he said. “You’ve suffered too much.”

“They’re just scratches. Nothing to worry about.”

“Anything that causes you pain worries me. And there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

One big hand settled on her knee. She could feel the heat of each of his fingertips, feel the rough line of flesh along his palm where his sword had left its mark. Each swipe of the cloth was gentle, but even so, he winced more than she did.

Grace couldn’t take her eyes off his hands. The stark contrast of his skin against hers was oddly thrilling. His careful strength made something deep inside her loosen up. The fear from her ordeal drained away, leaving her relaxed and floaty.