“I can manage from here.” I straighten, shaking off his support.
He doesn’t allow me to retake control. Instead, he reaches into the shower to start the spray of water. “Humor me.”
“I need to piss.”
“I’m not surprised. Doc Jesse funneled blood into you like we were at a frat house kegger.”
I chuckle and shuffle over toward the toilet. He’s right there with me. I lean back and peg him with a look. “Seriously, Zane. I’ve got this.”
“You don’t want me to hold it for you?”
I peg him with a droll stare and he holds up his hands. “It’s not like that’s uncharted territory.”
“For me to piss, it is.”
He shrugs. “Whatever. Don’t say I didn’t offer.”
While I empty my bladder, he strips off his lounge pants and by the time I flush, he’s as naked as I am. The two of us head into the shower and the hot water cascades down like liquid silk against my skin. It washes away the sharp scent of blood and every ounce of tension melts away into oblivion.
Dropping my gaze, I watch the red streaks of blood swirl down the drain until they disappear entirely.
“And this is how I know just how ‘not okay’ you really are.” Zane is looking at me with one ebony brow arched. “When have we ever been naked in the shower without your cock weighing in?”
I glance down at my lifeless cock, too exhausted to come up with anything smart-assed to say. Instead, I close my eyes and focus on staying upright while Zane gently runs his soapy hands over my shoulders and down my back with careful precision.
The warmth from his palms sends waves of comfort radiating through me. It’s more than just cleansing—it’s restorative somehow.
After what feels like an eternity under the warm spray, Zane turns off the water and places one of my hands against the tiled wall. “Don’t fall and break yourself. I’m just getting a towel.”
A moment later, he wraps me in a mile-long swatch of Turkish cotton decadence and I’m not only cleaner but fatigued beyond reason.
“Back to bed for you.”
“No argument.” I flop back down onto the sheets, a deep sigh escaping my lips. The exhaustion settles heavily across my chest, the weight of it dragging me deeper into dream territory.
Only this time I’m not solo.
Zane slides in behind me, one arm settling under my neck, the other draping protectively over my ribcage. His warmth envelopes me entirely as he cuddles in close. “Get some sleep, Viking.”
He pulls blankets over us both, and just like that—with him wrapped around me—I let go of everything else and let sleep drag me under.
Scottie
“Are you sure about this?” Tucker glances across the front seat at me, his brow furrowed. “You’ve given Zane and Huntley shit a dozen times over the past couple of weeks for going off on their own and leaving you behind. Now we’re doing the same thing to them.”
“Not exactly the same.” My voice comes out sharper than intended, and I try not to look too closely at why it did. I pull the handle of my door and drop out of the truck. “They ditched me because they didn’t have faith in me or my abilities. Then they went off on their own. The difference is, I have nothing but respect for them and understand they need a night to recover. And we’re not on our own. There are half a dozen royal guards here.”
He chuckles and hoists me over the brick wall where we crossed earlier tonight. “And it sounds like you believe that will make a difference when they find out.”
I shrug and brush my palms together. “Daeva has to pay for what she did to our fathers. If she returns tonight, I want to be here.”
We stick to the shadows as we approach the psychiatric hospital for the second time tonight. Rounding the property, we return to the stand of centuries-old trees near the front.
We wiped out a sizeable chunk of her turned army—if not all—but she doesn’t know that yet.
Link brought a signal jammer when he came with the attacking party. At the very most—if Kaza has this place wired with surveillance cameras—Daeva and Lazarus know ‘something’ is going on.
But that could be something as benign as a power outage.