The Seer by Rowan McAllister (reading comprehension books .TXT) 📕

every movement by the time he’d done a cursory job of it. He gave the stallion’s rump a quick pat and walked away, not bothering to tie him up. If Horse hadn’t left him by now, he probably wasn’t going to.

“Help me with these branches,” Daks said, waving to catch Ravi’s attention.

They started dragging dead branches out of the woods and driftwood from the bank of the river and the women eventually joined in, making the job go that much faster. They could’ve gone without a fire, but the spring air wasn’t quite warm enough yet, and they’d had a hard and sometimes wet journey so far. A little warmth and light to chase away the shadows and the misty damp was well worth the extra effort.

When Ravi turned to head back into the woods to get more wood, seemingly in a trance, Daks put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“We’ve got enough for now. Curl up somewhere and try to get some sleep.”

As a sign of how tired he must have been, Ravi merely turned on his heel, shuffled to one of the saddles they’d set on the ground, and slumped against it, wrapping his patched, threadbare cloak around himself. Daks frowned at the ragged bit of cloth as a cool breeze ghosted over his skin. He’d need to get something heavier for Ravi if they had to go too much farther north, or the man might freeze at night.

With a disgruntled sigh, he moved to his pack and pulled out his spare jerkin. After taking off his own cloak, he pulled the second jerkin on over his bloodstained clothes, then draped his cloak over Ravi’s unconscious form. He patently ignored Shura’s raised eyebrow as she hurried to the spot they’d cleared for the fire and set to work with flint and steel. Dead grasses from the glade and pine needles made starting it easy, despite the mist coming off the river, and the pine branches they’d collected soon popped and blazed cheerily enough to dry out the rest of the wood.

Shura groaned as she sat on the ground and held her hands out to the flames, making Daks smile.

“Both of you try to get some rest too. I’ll take first watch,” he offered.

“You sure? What about your wound?” Shura asked, frowning at his side.

He waved a dismissive hand, making the wound in question twinge. “It can wait. I was the one sitting on my ass while you two searched the town for aid. I had plenty of rest then. And I sure as hells don’t want you stitching me up half asleep by firelight. I’ll wake you in a few hours to take over, and we’ll worry about the wound then.”

She didn’t look completely happy about it, but she nodded wearily.

As he expected, both her and Fara dropped off nearly as fast as Ravi had, leaving him alone with only his thoughts and the fire to keep himself awake. He was almost glad he’d given up his cloak, because if he’d been any warmer, he might never have stayed conscious.

His gaze strayed to Ravi’s sleeping form often as the minutes ticked past, remembering the weight of Ravi’s body in front of him in the saddle and the heat of his breath as they stood crushed together in that alley. The first thing Daks planned to do when they were safely in Samebar was to find himself a willing bedpartner. And this time he wouldn’t be anywhere near as picky as he’d been in the Dog and Duck. Male, reasonably clean, breathing, and willing would be his only criteria.

He threw an envious look toward Shura and Fara’s huddled forms. The ladies had steadily shifted closer together in their sleep, until mere inches separated them. They were practically spooning each other. He glanced at Ravi again, and his lips curved wryly. What would happen if he just happened to curl up at Ravi’s back when Shura took the next watch?

Probably another punch to the face, he thought, his grin widening.

Still, Ravi’s occasional physical responses to him made him wonder.

With a sigh, Daks shook himself and forced his gaze back to their surroundings. He should really be trying to formulate a plan instead of daydreaming about getting laid.

IN WHAT seemed to have become the new norm since he’d met Daks, Ravi woke aching in nearly every part of his body and with no clear idea of where he was. At least this time he remembered going to sleep. Wood smoke and the crackle of a fire registered first, then a chill in the air that had him scowling and snuggling deeper into his cloak. Bracing himself for the pain, he tried to stretch his legs out, wincing when the chafed skin and strained muscles of his inner thighs made themselves known.

That was new.

He couldn’t wait to find out what this day would bring—a broken leg perhaps? Loss of a finger or toe?

After only a few halfhearted tries to get his body unlocked from the fetal position he’d slept in, he gave up and lifted his head instead. Opening sleep-crusted eyes in the predawn gloom, he noticed Shura first, where she crouched next to what was left of a fire. She gave him a brief, neutral nod of acknowledgment before lifting her gaze beyond the circle of firelight again. Mistress Sabin huddled beneath her cloak not far from Shura, and Daks lay to their right, presumably out cold as well.

Ravi frowned at the big lump and attempted to dredge up a glare, until he realized the man wasn’t wearing his cloak. Only then did the comforting extra weight on top of him register. Glancing down at himself, he recognized the dark, thick wool draped over him, and his stomach fluttered. He buried his nose in the fabric, but only for a moment, and only because it was chilled… not for any other reason.

A memory of heat rolling off a hard body as Ravi was pressed into a doorway surfaced,