Free The Mercenary's Marriage by Rachel Rossano

when
everything is finished.”
    “Thank you.” Darius slowed his pace. “I must
check on Brice. She was not doing very well when I left.” He turned
and offered his hand.
    He could not see Ewian’s face in the
darkness, but his voice sounded understanding. Taking the offered
hand, Ewian said, “We will talk tomorrow.”
     
    At about three in the morning, it began to
pour rain over the camp. Dawn was just a lightening of the gray
that could be seen through the steady rain. Darius peered through
the tent flap at the drab morning breaking. Then he heard a sound
from behind him.
     
    Brice awoke to the steady sound of water
dripping into a puddle and the drumming of rain on the oil canvas
roof. The temperature of the evening before had dropped
drastically. Shivering, she pulled the blanket closer to her chin.
That one motion brought on a chorus of pain so loud Brice’s breath
caught in her chest.
    She must have made a noise, for suddenly
Darius was looming over her. “Brice, are you all right?” His face
was in the shadow, but she could still feel the dark gray gaze
fixed on her face.
    Not sure she could manage to speak, she
carefully nodded. The world swam, her stomach clenched, and an
acidic burn bit the back of her throat. Almost as if he knew that
she was not telling him the whole story, Darius moved. The sound of
him rummaging came from the far corner of the tent. Brice decided
it was too risky for her to follow his actions with her head.
Instead she closed her eyes and wished she was dead. Just as the
partial oblivion of pain laced sleep started to creep upon her,
Darius was back.
    “Sit up.”
    He has to be jesting. The thought of
movement made the throbbing in her head crescendo.
    “Brice.” His voice was lower and if she was
not so preoccupied, Brice would have been concerned about his
temper. “You need to take this. Kurt ordered me to give it to you
as soon as you woke.” A large hand gripped her shoulder and Brice
instinctively recoiled. “No.” Darius’ other hand prevented her from
moving farther. Picking her up like she was a child, he sat on the
edge of the bed and cradled her against him. Brice suddenly found
her eyes open and watching him trying to open a small vial
one-handed. Before she had completely registered the meaning of his
words, he was pressing the cold container to her lips.
    “Open, little bird,” he said. His breath
brushed her cheek. “It will help, I promise.” Reluctantly she
parted her lips. Bitter liquid filled her mouth and then a large
warm hand massaged her throat. The moment she swallowed, the rim of
a wider container was pressed to her lips. Obediently, she opened
her mouth without prompting. Cool water flowed across her tongue
carrying away some of the bitter residue.
    “More?” Darius asked after she had swallowed
the first mouthful.
    “Yes.” The thin edge returned to her lips.
This time it washed away the traces.
    “More?” He asked again.
    Weakly, Brice tried to shake her head.
    “I understand.” Darius immediately stopped
her attempts by catching her head beneath his chin. Setting down
the container, he put her back in the bed. The now familiar fog was
clouding her senses, but she was aware enough to make note of his
return to bed. He tucked the covers around them both before
settling against her back. She was not sure, but he might have
whispered, “Goodnight, little one.”
     
     
~~~
     
     

Part IV
     
     
    The rain had stopped, but the air was heavy
with the threat of more. Darius felt the moisture that had been
collecting on his skin and clothes despite the cold. Surveying the
edge of the clearing, he wiped his forehead with the back of his
glove. He despised this weather. Wishing it would just rain and get
it done, he spotted movement among the trees. After another moment,
Brice began to come into view.
    Darius cringed inwardly as he watched Brice’s
slow progress back up the path from the woods. Being the only woman
in camp, she had the