Tobias stirred in his sleep.
Glancing away, she was suddenly terrified that his demon powers included telepathy. “You snuck in to sleep next to me. I’m not sure if that’s creepy or sweet.”
He sat up, hair rumpled from sleep. “I thought you might be cold. And I brought you clothes.”
A piece of hay stuck in his hair, and without thinking, she reached up to brush it out. “Thanks.”
He raised his brows at her torn bodice. “You probably want to get out of that dress.”
A blush warmed her cheeks, but he was handing her a pile of clothes. “That was nice of you.” She took them, eager to get out of the shredded ball gown. She picked through the clothes: folded dresses, sweaters, a scarf, canvas shoes, and several pairs of—Did he seriously buy me underwear?
She pulled out a long, sea-green dress. “This is beautiful.”
Tobias rose, stretching his arms over his head. “The wolves have made dinner. They’re serving it on the common. I can walk you there. I’ll wait outside while you change.”
“No need.” She cringed. Why did I say that? “I mean—just face the other way.”
She saw a flicker of a smile before he turned to face the doors, but ignored it. She groped around her back for the dress’s zipper, her arms straining, but the fabric was smooth and uninterrupted. There weren’t even any buttons. What the hell?
She’d never seen the back, now that she thought about it. It had appeared on her through a magical spell before the Purgators’ ball, and whoever designed the spell had failed to include any modern conveniences—like a zipper.
She cleared her throat. “Um, Tobias? I’m not sure how to get the dress off.”
“Do you need help?” He cast a quick look over his shoulder.
“You don’t have scissors, do you?” Idiot. Of course he didn’t.
“No. Do you want me to rip it?”
Heat bloomed in her chest. “Rip it?”
“I could get Celia,” he offered.
“No—it’s fine. Just rip the back.” She turned, pulling up her hair.
His feet rustled over the hay, and she felt his fingers brush against her back before he gripped the fabric. She felt the bodice loosen with a loud tear, and cool air greeted her back.
“Thanks.” She gripped the front of her dress.
He stepped away, facing the opposite wall, and she slipped out of the torn gown, then her underwear. The chilly night air raised goose bumps on her skin.
Slipping a pair of the new underwear over her hips, she found that they fit perfectly. She brushed a few pieces of hay off a green dress and pulled it over her head. The crocheted fabric hugged her body. Tobias had done a fantastic job choosing it, as if he somehow knew her exact measurements.
She ran her hands over the fabric. “It’s just the right size.”
He turned, flashing a smile. “It suits you.”
She stepped closer to him, and for a moment, an image flashed in her mind: pulling him into the hay, running her hands over his—
“Fiona?”
“What?” Her mouth went dry. Shit. He really can read thoughts.
“You were staring. You look like you saw a—”
“A monster? I guess I did.”
A muscle worked in his jaw, and he pivoted, jamming his hands into his pockets as he walked out the door. “Are you coming?” he shouted over his shoulder, marching ahead.
She hurried to catch up with him, inwardly cursing herself for being a jerk. Sea breeze rustled the hillside grasses, and the air smelled faintly of cedar smoke and fish.
Reaching Tobias, she shot him a quick glance, but his dark eyes didn’t leave the craggy, windswept slope.
Why did she always do that when caught off guard—find a way to make the other person even more uncomfortable than she was? It might be her best armor, but it left her feeling cold.
5
Celia
Celia woke just as the sky was darkening. Her internal clock must be all reversed. Still dressed in her dirty black gown, she looked like some kind of trampy wizard.
An unkind person might say that was accurate, but she didn’t need to dwell on that.
She stretched, surveying the tiny room. A small copper basin rested on a wooden stand, and candlelight cast dancing shadows over rough wooden walls.
She could get used to this simple life, if she had to. Maybe even find some wolf guy to hang out with, and bake bread or whatever people did for fun in the wilderness. As long as she never had to see the Maremount nobility again, to face the men who’d murdered her mother. As long as she could stay safe.
Someone rapped quietly at the door, and she jumped out of bed. Had Oswald come to see her? She combed her fingers through her hair. Tentatively, she pulled open the door.