She continued to look at him, confused. He tried repeating the warning in several languages. She just looked at him and they were drawing far too much attention. Every time she moved she had the eye of everyone in the tavern, and he didn’t want anyone to think she was easy prey by her lack of knowledge of the most basic necessity such as fire. In the end, there was nothing else to do. He pressed her arm down to her side, stepped around her and extended his hand, palm down, into the flames.

She watched, her eyes widening as his skin blistered and the scent of burning flesh rose. She caught his arm and jerked his hand from the fireplace.

“Do you understand?” he asked, showing her the damage.

She turned his hand over, her palm covering his burned one, not quite touching, yet he still felt her energy vibrating through his skin. Soothing coolness slid over the blisters. She lifted his palm toward her mouth. His breath caught in his lungs, the air trapped there. He couldn’t move or even speak as she bent her head toward his palm. Her tongue touched the blisters, lightly, barely there, a slow brush that actually made his hand tremble and his knees just a little weak. Worse, his body reacted with a hot surge of blood, rushing and pooling in wicked demand.

She let go of his hand slowly, almost reluctantly. He lifted his palm to inspect it, still feeling that soothing coolness, as if she’d spread a healing gel over the blistered skin. The blisters were gone. His palm was no longer burned, nor was it even red.

Fen drew in his breath sharply. He knew what she was. No other species could heal with just their saliva so easily. She had to be Carpathian—a race of beings who called the Carpathian Mountains their home. Few knew of their existence. He frowned, trying to wrap his brain around the idea. In truth, it made no sense. He doubted that a Carpathian female would come to a tavern alone, especially a rough place like the Wild Boar. She would not only have knowledge of fire, but she would be well-schooled in all things. No one lived as long as Carpathians without acquiring a great deal of knowledge along the way. What had happened to her? And why was she unescorted?

He felt the weight of a stare and glanced up to meet Zev’s gaze. Zev was looking at the woman. Instinctively, Fen shifted his body slightly, blocking Zev’s view of her. Her gaze jumped to his face and then she peeked around his broad body to look at Zev, then moved back behind him.

“You aren’t safe here,” Fen said, reluctant to admit it. “This crowd is rough.”