I opened my eyes to find the Huntress staring at me with her mouth slightly open as she failed to finish her sentence. She wore only a cloth, and the torchlight fell on her bare shoulders and loose hair with more charity than the harsh glare of the winter sun. It made her look soft, almost vulnerable.

The illusion lasted no longer than the time it took the breath to catch in my throat.

“I did not mean to startle you,” she said, her voice once again cold.

I said nothing. My lips were dry despite the steam wreathing my face, and I had never felt more exposed in my life.

The light fell across her back as she turned to leave. I gasped. Four deep gouges parted the flesh over her shoulder blades. “What happened to you?” I asked.

“Bear.” She shrugged, then winced as blood seeped from the wounds. I thought of the bearskin cloak she’d worn on her return, and the long claws dangling from the skinned paws.

The sweat prickling my brow had nothing to do with the heat of the spring and everything to do with the layers of parted skin before me. I was out of the water before I could change my mind, clutching the linen to my chest. She should hardly have been able to walk with damage like that, let alone ride.

Leave her, I told myself. She stole you from your home. Let the wounds fester. Let her rot and watch while the wolves rip her carcass limb from limb. My stomach heaved. Without the Huntress, there would be nothing to keep the wolves from turning on me.

“Hold still,” I told her, water streaming down my back from my wet hair. My hand shook as I placed it gently on the bare skin beside the gash. Leaves rustled, but I could barely hear them over the pounding in my ears. Her skin was hot to the touch, but not feverish, and smoother than mortal skin had any right to be. My thumb brushed the line of her shoulder blade without my volition, and I shook my head to clear it.

“It’s nothing,” she said.

I slid the towel down toward her hips, my eyes tracing the long, vicious curve of the wounds, and disagreed. “This needs to be sewn up and cleaned.”

“I said it is nothing.” I had never seen a beast caught in a trap, but with her lips half curled in a snarl and the whites of her eyes flashing, she reminded me of nothing more than that. Let her die then, I thought. I was no healer.

My palm seared, and something inside me unfurled. The sensation made me dizzy. I swayed as the torchlight flared.

“Rowan.” She steadied me, the feral look gone from her eyes, and her hand burned on my shoulder. She stole your life, I told myself as heat rushed to my face. She took everything from you.