Knight Awakened Read Free

she took. Day in and day out, she struggled with worry, an edginess she wore like a scent. He wore it too, though it smelled different. Lean and hungry with a touch of rebellion. Aye, under all the lovely bone structure was a man in need of repair and the soothing touch that went with it.
    Empathy stole into her heart, and all of a sudden, she wanted to make him feel safe. Absurd—completely laughable—considering she doubted anything made the hard-faced warrior afraid. Add that to the fact he scared her witless and the notion made her think she’d lost her mind. But if she was to tend his wound, she needed him to trust her.
    Squeezing his hand, Afina deployed a technique that had served her well in the past. She put them on familiar terms. “What is your name?”
    He gave her a strange look and let her pull him past the doorframe. “Xavian.”
    “I am Afina,” she said, infusing her tone with warmth she didn’t feel. “And that wee cherub is Sabine, my daughter.”
    Forever friendly, Sabine gave him a toothy grin, rapped the spoon against the edge of the bowl, and chirped, “Hello!”
    Afina dropped his hand and gestured to a stool before turning to retrieve her healer’s satchel. “Sit. I will gather my things and tend you at the table.”
    Again he hesitated, but in the end obeyed and took a seat, as far from Sabine as he could manage. Afina hid her smile. A grown man afraid of a wee lass. ’Twas inconceivable, but true. She’d seen it many times. Observed men hardened by battle and hurt by war fairly run in the other direction when faced with a child. When she encountered someone like that, she knew they’d forgotten joy, had no idea how to handle an energetic bundle filled with nothing but merriment.
    Curbing the inappropriate burst of amusement, she grabbed her bag and the large bowl from the shelf above it. Hands full, she turned and nearly jumped out of her skin. Another man, dark to Xavian’s light, stood in the open doorway. Her breath stalled as his black gaze swept her then the tiny confines of her cottage. The door swung closed behind him with a click, and her grip tightened on the satchel. Leather groaned in protest as alarm knocked around inside her head.
    Xavian studied her expression then glanced over his shoulder. “Relax, mistress. ’Tis only Cristobal. He’s with me.”
    “Oh,” she said, resisting the urge to pound on her chest to restart her heart. She took a shallow breath. No matter how much she disliked having two large men in her home, she must stay calm. Xavian required her skill, such as it was, and she needed the coin he offered to secure their future. She pushed past fear and set the bowl along with her bag on the tabletop.
    Sabine greeted the newcomer in her usual fashion. “Hello!”
    “
Salutari
, little one,” Cristobal said, a smile in his voice. Hooking a stool with his foot, he sat across the table from her daughter.
    Sabine grinned.
    He grinned back.
    Afina blinked, amazed by the exchange. Fierce-looking men didn’t generally engage her two-year-old in conversation. Neither did they reach into the pouches at their waists and offer her toys. But as Cristobal rolled the dice across the table to Sabine, she forced herself to reconsider, to remember a lesson long forgotten. Never judge another by appearance alone.
    “Cristobal enjoys children.”
    Xavian’s deep voice stroked along her spine, leaving pinpricks of heat in its wake. Afina flinched and dragged her attention from the strange pair. She collided with his ice-blue gaze, wondering what that meant, exactly.
Enjoy
in the way a wolf does a lamb or a child his favorite playmate?
    An image of razor-sharp teeth and lupine eyes flashed through her mind. She cleared her throat. “Towels. I will fetch them then begin.”
    She forced herself to move at a steady pace and, with quiet efficiency, gathered the rest of her supplies. Xavian tracked her movement. She felt his focus keenly, registered his gaze as prickles