Page 105 of Reap & Sow

Thrilling too.

Time slipped past easily like that: the crackle of the hearthfire, the distant clattering of cart wheels outside, the sloshing water against the tub. She ran a comb through her hair one hundred times, as she’d overheard women advise each other. Eda figured out through trial and error that curly hair like hers must only be combed while damp and dried gently, or else she would look like a sentient cloud on legs. She allowed the warm room to do its work. Ran the rosemary oil through her golden ends.

Who knows when I’ll next be able to take rest like this.

The thought stuck, burr-like. Tomorrow she would throw herself into the den of wolves yet again. Lich. Fane. Mr. Night.

An end was coming like a roiling storm, and she had no idea if she’d survive it. But it was coming nonetheless. Eda wished this stolen moment of calm could last forever. Wished to go back to that feather bed and dream some more of dancing creatures on foreign shores.

She wished for Kit to join her there.

Eda imagined him through the screen—those hot eyes, that secret smile he only ever seemed to share with her. The fond drawl of his voice when he called her darling.

She gripped the sides of the tub. Closing her eyes brought flashes of memory: the fevered slide of mouths, claws tracing her spine, whispered words in a language she did not know but of a meaning she thought she might.

Heat coiled low. Eda pressed her thighs together to soothe the ache. For all his teasing, Kit had never once pressed for more than she offered. And for all her moral bluster, Eda often wished he had. She clung to vague propriety like a warrior behind a shield. But standing against what? The stain of intimacy outside the marriage bed? Her desperation for closeness had already pushed her into Wymond’s arms. The corruption of a demon? She’d been a sinner in the eyes of the Faithhood since the day her father’s debt became hers.

No. In truth, Eda wanted to throw down her shield. She only feared what the one who stirred her heart would do with it once it lay bare and bleeding before him. A heart is more valuable than any number of years, Robin said, and harder still to get back. Be certain of the one you give yours to.

“You’ll turn wrinkled as a prune if you stay in there much longer.” His voice was a low drawl. It sounded like he’d been drowsing.

Eda swallowed. She’d forgotten her clothes. They were still on the end of the bed. “You’re right.” Behind her, a single sheet of folded linen sat just out of reach. She could get it herself if she got out.

But the world outside was dark and full of jagged teeth, ready to tear them apart. Eda desperately wanted to keep it at bay a little longer. She wanted to hold this precious feeling in her palms and nurture it, savor it, before it could be snuffed out forever.

She wet her lips. “Could you pass me the linen, over here? I need it to dry.”

Silence. Eda heard only the crackling fire and her own pounding blood.

A rustle. He was on the bed, then. “I thought I was banned from that side of the screen.” She pictured him sitting there still as stone, suspecting some trick. Eyes piercing through embossed leather panels.

The heat coiled tighter. “Do you refuse?”

Another silence. Then catlike footfalls, slinking closer. Her heart tripped. It was the approach of a predator, cautious of spooking its prey.

He stopped.

Eda turned her back. “Just behind me.”

After a long pause, he slipped around the wooden screen. Eda stared straight forward, vaguely breathless. He was so close she fancied she could feel the heat of him. His silence filled every corner of the room, and she felt his eyes on her like a phantom touch.

Cloth brushed her shoulder. Eda reached up to grab it—her hand grazed his. He stilled. His thumb touched her nape.

Eda’s whole body shivered, and something deep inside her rose up, braver than before. She’d vowed to do something with whatever life remained to her. She’d promised herself she would act. And she did not want to die having never acted upon a longing so precious as this.

Eda stood in a rush of water. She turned, gripping the linen, just barely covering her lower half.

And Kit stared.

He was in his mortal form, but she’d never seen this expression in either—utter shock.

It occurred to her with quickly dawning horror that his reaction might not be a good one. What if he did not find her beautiful? Her breasts were not flawlessly round. The gentle dips at her hip bones did not make for a perfectly smooth silhouette. In the rush of cool air and Kit’s roving stare, Eda’s bravado wilted.

She almost wrapped the linen around herself, after all, but then he made a choked noise of protest. Kit swayed forward, hand reaching as though to stop her. He met her eyes. His pupils bloomed huge and black.

He looked like he wanted to eat her alive.

When his silence persisted, Eda managed, “No doubt you’ve seen more beautiful women.”