Finishing the last of her cleaning, Willow ensured that the injury was not too deep and would heal. It had stopped bleeding, and there was nothing to suggest that Keegan would become feverish. So, she sat back on her heels, dropping the cloth into the pot and pushing up to stand.
To her surprise, Keegan followed her up and, in doing so, forced the two of them to stand practically nose to nose. Willow could feel the warmth of Keegan’s breath on her face, the intensity of his gaze still locked on her iron-tight. He made no move to put space between them, and Willow faltered. Her mind spinning with thoughts that didn’t belong in her head.
Abruptly, she stepped back, folding her arms over her chest.
“Ye look to be alright. I’ve cleaned it as best I can, and ye should be well enough to make it back to yer castle.”
Willow did not wait for a response from Keegan, simply turning away from him and walking toward the other side of the hut to sit down. They needed to sleep, and she was content to find unconsciousness as quickly as possible.
She was unsure how much time had passed, but she believed she’d been shivering for at least a year. Curling into herself, Willow shook against the small mound of hay she lay on, and the white puffs of her breath were visible against the darkness of night that surrounded them.
Keegan had pulled his shirt back on, refastening his plaid, and now he looked to be sleeping quite contently under the blanket he’d taken from where it was strapped to the saddle bag. The glare she shot in his direction was a habit that she repeated every few minutes, and it showed no signs of stopping.
The man just lays there, a happy as a cat by the fire.
She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, the temptation to look in the saddle bag for anything else that she might use to keep her warm presenting itself again. Willow knew there were no further blankets, but perhaps she could find flint so that she could start a small fire.
In truth, Willow didn’t understand why Keegan had not tried to set one already. Clearly, the man was prepared to be traveling and sleeping along the road. He certainly had the means to start a fire in that damned saddle bag. She glared at him again, cursing his serene slumber.
“I can feel ye staring at me.”
Willow yanked her stare away, casting it out the opening of the hut just as Keegan cracked a lid.
“I’ve nay idea what yer talking about. I’ve been attempting to get some sleep.”
The sound of the hay rustling forced Willow to glance toward Keegan, and she saw him shift toward her, a smirk pinned on his blasted face.
“Attempting? If ye find it so difficult, ye could come away from the opening where it is sure to be coldest.”
Scoffing, Willow pulled her chin in toward her as she tried to snuggle deeper into her hay mound.
“Och, and what? Come lie next to ye? I will nae be sleeping with me captor again. I daenae relish the thought of being set upon in the middle of the night again.”
A shiver worked through her spine, however, and as it left her, Willow noticed how her teeth had begun chattering. She wasfreezing half to death, and another moment of this cold would surely end her or force her into madness.
The rustling of hay pulled her attention to Keegan again, and she glanced over to see him holding up the single blanket they had between them, beckoning her to climb under it. Willow scoffed, shaking her head as she looked away from him.
I willnae be brought low enough to lie with me captor. I’m nae some weak, fragile flower. A single cold night willnae kill me.
But the truth was, Willow was not so sure of that fact. The cold was truly miserable, and bearing it much longer could very well cause her to fall ill. If she were to succumb to a fever, she would never see her sister again. What’s more, Willow needed to have her head about her so that she could take in the Brahanne fortress and find a way out of it. Magnus was unlikely to consider the exchange, so securing her freedom from the Brahannes was up to her.
This is how I survive. I need to get back to see Lilith. I need to be free of the Brahannes so that I might finally handfast my betrothed.That is all.
Keegan had let his arm relax when Willow had not immediately moved to join him. So as she stood up, her body protesting the movement and reminding her of how sore she would be come morning, Willow hoped that he’d not fallen back asleep.
When she was a few steps away from him, Keegan lifted the blanket once more. Willow regretfully lay down beside him,allowing him to drape the blanket over her. The warmth was true bliss, and Willow let out a whimpering breath as it melted into her freezing skin.
“Are ye quite enjoying yerself then, lass,” Keegan remarked, the smirk he wore heard in his tone. “It appears that yer body may not have gotten the message that I’m yer ‘captor.’”
Fury rose in her guts, and Willow positioned herself so that she was as far away from Keegan as possible without leaving the shelter of the blanket. It wasn’t very far, of course, and she cursed under her breath for being so vocal about her relief.
The light huff of Keegan’s breathing tumbled behind her. Willow was sure the bastard had begun laughing at her, and she grit her teeth as she squeezed her eyes closed.
“Shut it,” she bit out, too tired and cold to regret her outburst.
It didn’t appear to do much to dampen Keegan’s amusement, however. Willow forced herself to exhale. There was nothing she could do about her situation right now, and even less in the morning if she did not get her sleep. She needed to ignore the infuriating warrior at her back and rest.
Tomorrow would come, and Willow was sure that it would bring better opportunities to escape or negotiate her release once she met the Laird of Clan Brahanne.