He stripped off one of his studded leather bracers, rolling up his sleeve. Going over to the amethyst pool, he dipped his hand in the shimmering lavender-tinted water. Immediately, the pain in his palm ebbed away. He hadn’t realized just how much it had been bothering him until it stopped.
Tamsin peered over his shoulder at his submerged hand. Her eyes widened as she saw the redness of the puncture wounds fade, his skin beginning to knit back together.
“Wow,” she breathed. “Okay, amethyst crystals do not do that in my world.”
“It does not surprise me to hear that.” Cuan withdrew his dripping hand in order to unfasten his other bracer. “By all accounts, your world has become a grim place since we were driven from it. Perhaps the magic left along with the fae.”
“That would make sense.” She tugged at his armor. “I’m betting you’re hurt a lot worse than you’re letting on. Take this off so I can have a look at you.”
The command in her voice was so enchanting, his hand was halfway to his buckles before he came to his senses. “I am…not certain that would be a good idea.”
Tamsin gave him another of those exasperated looks. “You promised to drop the stoic bullcrap, remember?”
He had indeed, jest though it had been. And an unseelie promise was as binding as cold iron.
Control, he reminded himself as he unfastened his armor. You can be half-undressed around a woman and not turn into some slavering beast.
Still, he was grateful for Angus’s presence. Self-control was a lot easier when there was a beady-eyed orange monster watching your every move, itching to sink its teeth into your groin.
He pulled his undershirt over his head, and was rather gratified by the slight hitch in Tamsin’s breath. Then again, perhaps it was not his physique that had impressed her. From the feel of things, he must have some truly spectacular bruises blooming across his back.
“You are hurt worse than you admitted.” Tamsin’s gaze roved over his body, but her expression was more worried than appreciative. “You can’t keep doing this, Cuan.”
He balled up his shirt, soaking it in the warm spring. “Fighting, getting injured, or being—what did you call me? A swine-headed idiot?”
“All three.”
“I am working on the latter. As for the second, not even the greatest of warriors can control all the tides of battle. I can fight for you with all my skill, but I cannot promise that I will take no further wounds.”
He bit back a hiss as he pressed the dripping shirt to one of the livid lash-marks on his upper arms. The pain ebbed as the magical water took effect.
“If it is any consolation,” he said, shooting her a wry look, “we are united in desire to avoid further damage to my body. I have no great love of pain. And with any luck, I shall only have to fight a few more duels.”
Tamsin watched him apply the wet cloth to his other wounds. “You think Aodhan will find a way to free me?”
“I hope so.” He met her eyes, keeping his expression carefully neutral. “But I suspect that he is not our only hope.”
Tamsin’s shoulders stiffened. “If this is about mating again—”
“It is not. I am not a fool. I know that…that can never happen.”
Even though he’d braced himself, it still hurt to say the words out loud. Perhaps he was a fool after all, in the secret depths of his heart.
He went on, ignoring the ache in his chest that no magic water could ease. “But I also know that there is something you are not telling me. Some secret hope that you have, and have decided not to share.”
Her chin set at a stubborn angle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The way that she could say one thing with her mouth when every other part of her body shouted the contrary was really quite fascinating. He’d known that humans could lie, but not that one could be so bad at it.
“You do.” He held up a hand as she started to retort. “I truly am not a fool, Tamsin, at least in some things. Kindly do me the courtesy of not treating me as one. I left you alone with Motley. That was not by chance. I suspected that you might trust him, even if you could not trust me. And when I returned, he mentioned a door that he had made. One that was no longer there.”
Tamsin’s skin was too dark to betray a blush. But he could read the flicker of her eyes just as clearly.
“I am not asking you to tell me what you did,” he said, more gently. “Or what you plan to do. In truth, I do not want to know. I am high sidhe, and sworn to the service of Lady Maeve. If she asks me a direct question, one without room for evasion, I cannot lie. I would cut my tongue out rather than betray you, but it is still safer if you do not tell me all your secrets.”
“Oh,” she said, in a very different voice. “Oh. I didn’t think of that.”
“I did not think that you had.”