Seth moves around me with his own armful of clothes and leads the way to the back of the house, where we find a woodshed, hot-water heating by a coal pit, and several vats for various tasks requiring getting things wet.
He dumps everything into one of the vats. It’s really only big enough for one or two sets of clothes, or more likely robes, from the person who used to live here, so Seth’s armful spills over the sides with absolutely no room for mine. I drop mine on the ground – they’re about to be washed anyway.
I try my best not to glance over my shoulder at the boulders, but three whole seconds later, I’ve given in.
“We buried her,” Seth says softly.
I swallow, nodding. “I know.” Doesn’t make that particular spot any less fear-inducing.
To battle falling into the emotion, I make myself busy getting wood for the small fire under the vat.
After a few more logs, Seth turns the tap and lets the water start filling the vat. A handful of soap nuts and a paddle later, and we’ve got bubbles and the beginning of clean clothes.
“So, what really happened while I was healing my arm? Because Killian and Roarke are both terrible liars. I’d have thought Roarke would be good at it. I already knew Killian was a bad liar when I had to call him my husband in the Lackshir Markets,” I say, as nonchalantly as possible, a soapy wet sock in my hand.
Which is a big failure – the trying to be smooth bit. Not the sock, that’s looking lovely.
Seth practically chokes on his laughter, tossing a pair of pants over the pen top rail beside us. They’re the pants with the criss-cross tie on the front, ones that I think will pull tightly enough to fit me, and I decided a few days ago that I’m going to steal them off Seth. Making them my pants, technically.
I adjust my pants – making sure they’re going to dry properly – while he picks up a shirt and starts scrubbing.
“I don’t think I’m the best person to try and explain it. I stayed outside,” he says, but there’s a strain to his tone that hints at this story being more complicated.
I clench and unclench my fist again. It aches, but whatever happened, it was worth it – for me.
Doesn’t mean it was worth it for the others.
I open my mouth to apologize or something similar, but Seth hooks a soapy finger under my chin and gently closes it. He runs his thumb over my cheek.
“They’re big boys, Vexy. Don’t waste your energy worrying about the people who should be worrying about you.”
He smiles softly, leaning in to rest his forehead against mine. Soft is a look I really like on Seth.
“Pax might be number One, but I’m number Two – don’t forget it,” he whispers, then his lips are on mine.
Not a planned thing, just maybe like we were standing too close, and the logical way to move this moment on was to lean in even closer.
I don’t care why – only what. Just the feeling of intoxicating happiness that tickles across my lips.
World gone.
Worries gone.
Breath gone.
His kiss is gentle and far too short. When he pulls away, I try to chase after him, lifting to my toes and leaning forward.
He laughs.
“Careful now, mortal,” he says, running his tongue over his lips. “You still taste really good – let’s not have you stripping your clothes off out here in the open.”
Not what I was planning to do – so I slap him in the face with my wet sock, leaving a trail of bubbles from his hair down to his jaw.
Those brilliant blue eyes light up, and before I can react his arms are around me, and he’s hoisting me in the air.
“Possibly the dirtiest thing I own,” he chuckles.
“Seth, no,” I squeal and squirm.
I was wrong when I said the vat was big enough for one set of clothes. Pretty sure it’s big enough for a person to be stuffed into. He swings my legs up, cradling me, and Killian’s blade slips straight out of my pocket, then he lowers my ass into the almost hot and very soapy tub.
“Seth,” I gasp as my clothes soak up the water.
And I’m stuck. Ass in, legs hanging over the edge, back pressed hard against the steel. I’m not getting out of here without help.
Seth, smiling about as broadly as the guy can, leans in and pokes my chest.
“This one’s see through,” he says.
And he’s chuckin’ right.
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him, biting my lip and trying to convince myself I’m purely embarrassed, definitely indignant, and a whole lot disappointed that I’m the only one revealing what’s under my clothes.
“Game’s over. Get me out!”
I’m not a hundred percent sure what’s about to come out of his mouth, but he’s still smiling, so I’m pretty sure whatever it is, is going to be something I don’t want to hear.
“Seth,” I say sweetly, smiling and fluttering my eyelashes back at him. “If you don’t get me out of here, something bad is going to happen.”
He just keeps laughing at me!
I don’t have a single idea how I can get my revenge while I’m stuck in here, but I will have my revenge. No one can escape me, not even Jake could, and he had years more experience than this man. Years worth of me putting dye in the washing up liquid or stitching the toes of his socks together. The right opportunity and my revenge will be hot enough to burn you, Seth.
Flames shoot out from underneath the vat, latch on to his pants leg, and start devouring the fabric. Red dances along the black linen as if it’s alive.
My eyes are wide with shock. His eyes go wider, then he starts jumping around, trying to bash at the flames. Which doesn’t work. After a breath, he pulls at the
