Untamed {Mature Reading}

Chapter XXVI

If Bianca dreamed, she did not remember what she had dreamed of. She awoke to the faint sounds of cheering coming from her bedroom window, midday sunlight flooding through. She blinked, rubbing at her eyes as she peered about her, a thick fog clouding her mind as she struggled piece together the events leading up to her deep sleep.

Lord Grey. Callum.

The priestess groaned into her bedding, wishing that she could remain in their comforting folds and never have to leave her room. How could she give herself to the Laird so freely? She was no better than the wanton pagan he had accused her of when she had first been brought to him.

Oblivious to her inner turmoil, the tournament carried on outside and briefly, the priestess wondered if Callum was among them, if his blue eyes searched for her in the crowd, flaring in disappointment when he could not find her. She knew she shouldn't think like that, should wish for another woman's promised to want her in such a way, but her body still ached from where he had touched her, been with her. The reminder of his touch made it hard for her to put him out of her mind, not when her very being bore every trace of him.

She wished to bathe but when she slipped a tentative finger into the water of her basin, she found it cool. She did not wish to call for someone to bring her warmer water and the idea of stepping outside to fetch some herself sent a shiver down her spine. With a grimace she steeled herself as she quickly scrubbed her body and tried to wash the grime, hay and sweat from her hair.

The icy water made her yelp, the priestess having to grit her teeth to stop them for chattering. But she forced herself to carry on, scrubbing until her skin was pink and raw and until her scalp ached from the cold and the force of her persistent fingers.

She shivered as she changed, the soft wool of her pain blue dress tickling at her sensitive skin. Lacing her boots, the priestess jutted her chin as she stepped out, willing to meet the eyes of anyone she met on her way.

Luckily, it would seem that near-everyone was too busy with the tournament for she scarcely met a soul on her way.

Save for the one-eyed McKenzie who stood guard outside of Alec's room, his brows furrowed as he watch her approach. Bianca stopped a few feet away from him, willing her chin to remain high. "Is he well enough to see me?"

The one-eyed guard studied her for a long moment before giving a sharp nod, stepping aside to grant her access to the door. As she crossed the threshold, she gave him a pointed look as she closed the door behind her.

Inside, she heard a low and familiar chuckle. "You'll make people talk. Being alone in my room with me with the door shut."

A tired smile curved her lips as Bianca took a step closer towards the large bed where Alec lay. "They're ready talking," She murmured. "Why stop giving them reason now?"

Her grey gaze roamed his face as she stood at his side, taking in the livid bruise that spider webbed across his left temple. His left eye was bloodshot, the whites of it now a bloody red. Underneath his brown hair, she could see the tell-tale sign of stiches.

The sight of him made her stomach drop, her eyes prickling.

"Ah, don't ye be cryin'," Alec scoffed, though his voice was tender. Carefully, he patted the space next to him on the bed. "Come here an' sit with me."

She scrubbed at her eyes and nodded, perching on the bed. She could not look away from the damage that Callum had caused in one single blow. "How are you?" She said at last.

"Sober," Alec grimaced, though a hint of a smile played on his lips. "Ain't nothin' worse than having yer head bashed in an' then bein' told not ter drink it away."