Page 62 of Wake the Dream

“Nowyou’re okay,” he interrupted. “But this was not a good situation.” His arm came around her and drew her close. She let him, shifting to take in his face, the panic lingering in his eyes. “I let you walk in there sensing something was wrong with you, that there was something you weren’t telling me. You got hurt. I would have done anything to keep you from being in that situation. I took out the rest of the nest.” Kieran sucked in a breath, his muscled chest expanding as he bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I should have told you I’d been having blackouts.”

His gaze darted to her eyes, dropped briefly to her mouth. “What do you mean, blackouts?”

“My magic has been sputtering in and out for the last few days. Since Yelena disappeared, it hasn’t been strong enough for me to depend on.”

“You could have told me. I would have done things differently for you.”

“I didn’t trust myself enough to tell you. And I didn’t trust you. Maybe I’m the one who should apologize. Maybe I should start by thanking you.” She blinked back the burning in her eyes as he reached down between them to grab her hand despite the gunk and bringing it up to lay against his cheek.

At once it became an effort to force her lungs to breathe, to focus on anything other than his tanned, smooth skin.

Kieran refused to tear his eyes away from hers as she swept her index finger along his cheekbone. Savoring each stroke, she caressed his face, never breaking his gaze even as it stripped her raw.

“You couldn’t have known how they would react to me. Even I didn’t know.”

“Yes, but Caryss did.”

Illaria bolted upright at the name. Caryss had been in the apartment.

Her heart lurched. Each of the bites on her body throbbed. She went cold and hot at once.

It explained the goo for sure. She flaked off a piece, trying to ignore the frisson of anxiety inside of her. She didn’t like knowing the old witch had been in Kieran’s house.

Liked it less considering she’d been passed out at the time. It shifted the balance between them.

“What did she say?” Illaria asked slowly.

“Not much. Made some remark about the birthmark on your back.”

She shook her head. “I don’t have a birthmark on my back. She’s mistaken.” Kieran touched her chin, his chestnut eyes filled with some emotion she didn’t yet understand.

There was strength in his face that she found intoxicating, soothing. “Don’t think about it,” he whispered. “I did what I had to do. How about we get you in the shower? It looks like the salve did its job.”

“It itches like a bitch,” Illaria complained when he scooped her into his arms.

“I’m sure it does! You were knocking on death’s door, baby.”

“Please don’t call me baby. It’s weird.”

“Not sure why it’s weirder than you about to be naked in my shower again,” he responded.

She warmed at the thought, dismissing her desire to snuggle closer as a reaction to the goo. “Will you be joining me?”

His face hardened. “Now isn’t the right time. You’re hurt.”

“Not hurt enough to be unappreciative of the thought of you under that warm spray.”

“Look at that. You even got your sense of humor back.” Kieran paused in the bathroom threshold. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried.”

“You shouldn’t have worried about me. You had it handled.” Illaria nuzzled closer, enjoying the closeness. The feel of his shoulders beneath her hands.

“Stop trying to butter me up because it isn’t working.”

“How about you reach out with your all-seeing eye and tell me what I’m doing?”

“You know damn well I can’t do that with you.” He deposited her—gently—inside the tub and reached toward the faucet, switching on the hot water. “And it’s a good thing I can’t. If I’d been there with you, feeling what you felt when those vampires attacked, I would never have been able to push the fear aside and get the job done.”

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