Page 32 of In Violent Waves

“Well, why are you standing in the doorway? Go to bed.”

Lyra’s spine stiffened at the order and his tone. She had warned him of that already and dug her heels in.

But he misunderstood her stubbornness and took it for confusion.

“Do you need to use the bathroom?”

Lyra shook her head. Her mass of unbound hair swayed with the movement. She looked down at where her hair brushed against her body and realized she was still wearing his cloak—backward—over her ripped and stained gown. She must have looked like a vagrant.

Wilder followed her stare and cleared his throat.

“Do you require a change of clothes? I could see if Maelys packed some. We will be on the road awhile.”

Lyra continued glaring at him. He glared right back.

“You did nothing but yap the entire way here, and now that I need you to answer a question, you decide to be mute.” His nostrils flared as he clenched his teeth.

It infuriated her, that arrogance.

He threw up his hands and stalked past her and to the door, throwing a withering glare her way.

“That’s a basin full of clean water. Clean yourself up. You stink,” he ordered. “And do not move from this room.”

Wilder didn’t even wait for her to respond before he stepped past her and slammed the wooden door shut behind him. The resounding slam echoed through her head.

The food had warmed her bones, but now she felt the weight of the day. Exhaustion tugged at her. She should sleep, and then she could think through her next steps with a clear head.

Lyra looked around the room. There was nothing in here but a few charcoal drawings on the wall, a dilapidated bedside table, and a mirror. She hadn’t seen what she looked like yet as a human, so she worked up the courage to walk across the room.

She was horrifying.

Lyra had never seen her hair down before. It hung in loose waves and random ringlets to her waist. It framed her frighteningly pale face. Her emerald eyes were dull and muted. She looked like a specter.

No wonder the humans had stared—she did not resemble one of them at all.

The door cracked open, and Maelys peered through.

“Otto had me pack extra.” She waved a fistful of fabric at Lyra.

Lyra took the clothes and gave her a curt nod.

Maelys returned the nod with one of her own, but also a small smile that softened her features.

“You’ll be more comfortable in those. See you in the morning.”

The door closed with a click.

Lyra frowned and stood there dumbfounded before looking down at the fabric in her hands. There were two of them. One was soft green. She searched her mind for the name …

A blouse. It was a blouse.

The second one was longer and of the same fabric the water was kept in—leather. It was pants.

She sighed, holding the pants up in front of her legs.

Well, for someone all-seeing, he had made a mistake in the sizing. There was no way these were going to fit. She tugged atthe top of them and marveled when the fabric stretched. Never mind then, maybe they would.

Two small pieces of fabric dropped from the leg of the pants when she held them up. Lyra glared down at them before picking them up. Her cheeks burned when she realized what they were: undergarments.