The Faceless Woman by Emma Hamm (i love reading .txt) 📕

her head. “No, not really. I saw a form through the flames and thought it was a childhood story come to save me. Not a flesh and blood man.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned away and laid her back to the ground.

She hadn’t noticed there had been another cloak beneath her. Surly and uncomfortable, she admitted he had at least been kind. Faeries weren’t usually so considerate of anyone’s comfort.

“I would like to treat your legs if you will allow it.”

Aisling bit her lips, considering the options. She could let him heal her legs and then deal with the consequences of taking a faerie’s help. Or she could insist he let her go and stumble through the woods until she happened upon her hut.

There wasn’t a choice.

She sighed and kept her eyes on the ground. “Yes, fine. What do you want in return?”

“Do I need to ask for something?”

“Faeries always want to make a deal.”

“Ah.” She could hear him shifting, walking around her and then kneeling beside her legs. “How about you remove the binding curse?”

“Funny. I'll do that the moment you heal my legs.”

“I’m not joking. And why aren’t you looking at me?”

Because a part of her was still holding onto hope he might be Fiach Dubh Ri. She licked her lips, “Faeries prefer privacy. I don't want to insult you, Master Fae.”

“Master? Been a long time since anyone called me that.” His voice was laced with humor. “You may look upon me if you so wish, witch.”

She ground her teeth together, took another breath, and looked up.

At first, her eyes couldn’t understand what she was seeing. The man kneeling in front of her was handsome. His jaw was chiseled, his lips full and wide. When he grinned at her, a dimple appeared.

And then she realized he wasn’t handsome at all.

What looked like a shadow covering the left side of his face was actually dark feathers flattened against his skull. His head wasn’t shaved at all. Instead thick points poked through the skin that looked like quills. His eyes didn’t match—one was green, and the other was swallowed entirely by a yellow iris that wildly rotated as it looked her up and down while the other eye remained still. The foot planted on the ground next to her knee had four taloned toes, black skin, and rigid scales.

Her jaw dropped open, and she stared at him with burning cheeks. “What are you?” she whispered.

“Unseelie.” His lips quirked to the side, and his eyes twinkled. “Or did you expect some handsome Fae to have saved you?”

She could barely breathe when he was looking at her like that. He didn’t look like a raven at all, but a hungry wolf. “I've yet to find any Fae handsome.”

“No? Then why are you blushing?” He pressed his hands flush against her legs, the movement too quick for her eyes to track.

“Lucky guess.” She bared her teeth in a grimace, releasing a growl at the pain. “You did that on purpose,” she accused.

“Did what?”

“Distracted me so I wouldn’t know when you were going to touch me. You can’t see my face. Ouch. Who taught you how to heal? You have the least delicate touch I’ve ever had the displeasure of feeling.”

“Delicate? What about me makes you think I would be delicate?” He smoothed his hand down her shin to her feet. The blisters deflated and flattened against her skin in the wake of his touch. She was still red but no longer raw.

“Healing means making the person feel better, not hurting them more.”

“Do you feel better?” He arched a dark brow and flicked an amused glance her way. “Or worse?”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t intend to answer that question.”

“Ah. Your silence speaks louder than words.”

Aisling crossed her arms and watched him work. She couldn’t argue that he was quite talented. The blisters faded, the ache was nearly tolerable, and she was certain he was doing it with very little concentration.

He stared at the surrounding forest with an intensity that made her heart hammer in her chest. If there was danger in the forest, she doubted he would try to keep them safe. He could leave her easily if trouble arose, and he likely wouldn’t feel guilty about it. She might have thought he was lost in his own thoughts if the raven eye of his wasn’t whirling in its socket.

“So what is it?” she blurted, cutting through the silence.

“What is what?”

“Your eye. It’s unusual to see a faerie marked like that.”

She realized how rude the question was the exact moment his hands clenched around her ankles. A soft whine escaped her lips, and he gentled his grip. “It is uncommon.”

“Care to explain?”

He shook his head and slid warm hands up her calves. She held her breath as he reached her knees. A heated stare somehow met hers, and Aisling lost herself in his eyes.

Leaves unfurled in a bright ray of sunshine. Emeralds glistened in a crown made for a king. A sea of verdant grass rolled in a breeze she could not feel. All of nature was trapped in the well of his gaze.

When his fingers shifted to the back of her knee, warmth bloomed in their wake. His touch gentled. Was the Unseelie trying to be considerate of her wounds? Yet another oddity about him that she couldn’t understand.

Her thoughts skipped a beat when he stroked her legs again. When was the last time someone had touched her like this? She couldn’t remember. The children were polite and touched her hands when she allowed it, but they never touched her like this.

The light touch captivated her attention until she could focus on nothing other than the gentle fingers soothing the pain in her legs. He wanted to help her even if he wanted something in return.

“Breathe,” he said with a chuckle.

Aisling snapped her gaze away from his hands on her legs to see laughter in his eyes. She tried to untangle herself from his warm grasp, but he tightened his hold.

“I’m not