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I sat on the snow-dusted stone, stretching my legs out and leaning against one of the stone pillars of the archway. “You didn’t, ” I said, handing him a cloak. He stared at it. “Put it on. Anger may feel warm but it ain’t going to keep you from falling sick again. ” Rob’s jaw rolled with muscle. “I didn’t fall sick, ” he snarled, swinging the cloak round his shoulders and sitting on the ground across from me. “I was laid on a board with spikes on it, and I felt it as each one pushed through my skin. And those gaping holes didn’t quite heal right, did they?” My knuckles were rubbing over my cheek before I knew what I were about. He weren’t the only one that Gisbourne and the sheriff had left marks on. The new scar I’d gotten for marrying Gisbourne to save Rob’s life were harder than the last, like something were stuck deep inside it. It were longer too. “They never do. ” He let a moment pass. “I don’t want you out here. ” “Yes, you do. ” “You need sleep. ” I just huffed at that. “You’ll freeze, ” he said. “I like the cold, ” I said, tucking my cloak tighter around me anyway. He opened his mouth to try and shake me off again, so I asked the one thing I knew would hush him. “What do you dream of, Rob?” He glared at me, but his eyes fluttered shut and he shook his head.
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