“Fergus, can you go fetch water?” Wulfgar growled, and threw a bucket at his head. While the younger warrior loped off, Wulfgar rose and checked the fire. I took the moment of privacy to dress, and thanked my scarred mate when he tossed me my boots.
He stayed across the room from me, giving me space and moving with none of the speed that took my breath away.
“Will you check my cuts?”
I crossed to him and undid the bandages. The wounds were healing nicely, the least of them gone completely, faded into barely visible red marks. I cleaned and packed the worst cuts so they would not fester before wrapping them again. In this, at least, I was competent. I’d learned from Sabine, and she was always quick with criticism when I did something wrong.
As I finished I realized I’d spent a number of
