Diego didn't stop until he reached the top floor of the keep, kicking open the doors to his private master suite and carrying me straight into the spacious, dimly lit room.
He walked over to a wide, cushioned armchair by the and placed me down with surprising gentleness.
"I can walk," I protested as I tried to push myself up, but my trembling thighs immediately buckled, dumping me back onto the seat.
"You can't even sit up straight," he scoffed, dropping to one knee in front of me. He unlaced my dust-covered leather boots, pulling them off one by one before tossing them aside. "You pushed your muscles past the tearing point. If I don't work the tension out of your shoulders and back right now, you won't be able to lift an arm for a week."
"I can handle myself just fine," I snapped. "I
