Page 58 of Unholy

“Mm. Right away. I saw the wound close with my own eyes. Alex said he thought the blood loss was what kept you out for so long. That might take a little longer to replenish. They left after Talon explained the stuff about the blood, but they said to call if you had any problems. Alex wishes you well, by the way.”

Luke sighed, tangling their fingers together. Malachi’s rings pressed against his fingers, and he realized they didn’t clack against his own. He pushed the blankets down and turned his hand over.

“My ring?”

“Um.”

Luke looked back at him. “You can tell me. ‘M not angry.”

Malachi relaxed. “I gave it back to them. I took… Well. I killed them all. And then Talon cut off their ring fingers, with their rings on them.”

Luke’s stomach turned. “Jesus, Mal.” Even though they’d tried to kill him, he was glad he didn’t have to see that.

“I told you what I’d do if anyone tried to take you away from me,” Malachi snarled, tightening his arms and legs around him. “I told you I’d kill them. They hurt you. You were bleeding out. I should’ve sent back theirheads.”

Luke twisted around and kissed him silent, mashing their mouths together. It was off-center and messy andperfect.Malachi’s body slowly unlocked, curling around him once more. Even at his most wrathful, Malachi made him feel nothing but safe and cared for.

“You sent them back how?” he asked when they parted.

Malachi licked his lips, as though savoring Luke’s taste. “Talon can do this teleporting thing. He took me to the guild’s front gate. We tossed them all in a bag, along with yours, through the gate. And flipped off the camera.”

Luke snorted. “God, I love you.”

Malachi stared at him for a moment, and then, to Luke’s surprise, ducked his head andsobbed. “Oh, treasure.” He rocked them from side to side, his face buried in Luke’s neck. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear you say that again. They almost had you. A few more minutes and you’d have been gone. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Luke carded his fingers into the black waves of Malachi’s hair. “Mal. Mal, I’m right here. I’m okay. You saved me.”

It did beg a question for the future. He hadn’t thought that far ahead, but Luke would age while Malachi stayed the same. As it turned out, there was something they could do to prevent that. Would Luke want that? Eternity?

He didn’t know. But he certainly wasn’t going to rule it out.

He peppered kisses to Malachi’s cheek until he turned his head and gave Luke his mouth instead. His face was dry, but his crimson eyes were red-rimmed, his expression drawn.

“Can I ask you something?” he ventured.

“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”

Luke smiled. “About the, uh, blood thing. Would you… want that? For me to take your blood regularly enough to?—”

“Yes,” Malachi interrupted, and Luke let out a short laugh at his eagerness. Malachi smiled, but his eyes were serious. “If that was something you wanted, yes. I almost lost you today. I can’t think of anything better than having you forever.”

Luke ducked his head, turning to press his cheek to Malachi’s chest. “Okay. Good to know. It’s… a big decision.”

“It is. And you’ll have all the time you need to decide whether you want it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Luke relaxed. There was so much he didn’t know. So much about his life was an uncertainty now that his worst fear had finally been realized. He’d been banished from the guild. For the first time in his life, he didn’t have them to fall back on. But—also for the first time in his life—he didn’t need to. He had something better than the guild. He had Malachi. As long as he had him, everything else would fall into place. He’d come out of his worst fear in the arms of the man he loved. Everything else was golden.

Luke dozedon Malachi’s chest for a while. Malachi didn’t seem to be in any hurry to move, and even turned the television on with the volume down to occupy himself while Luke rested. But eventually, he couldn’t deny that he would have to get up and face the world—if only to shower.

This wasn’t the first time he’d experienced an injury, but it was the first time he’d experienced blood loss without the injury compounding it. His limbs felt weak, his body exhausted from the simple act of picking himself up off the couch and going into the bathroom, but there was no pain accompanying it. He moved slowly, his body conditioned to expect it, but it never came. Malachi followed on his heels, turning the shower on for him. He wasn’t surprised to find Malachi’s shower was as nice as the rest of his apartment, a big, walk-in stall with a glass wall and pale stone tiles. He also wasn’t surprised when Malachiwordlessly stepped in after him. Malachi was bloody, too, after all.

They soaped each other up with slow, languid strokes. Malachi’s hands grazed his stomach and back where the sword had gone in, and Luke looked down at it. He remembered seeing the tip of the sword protruding from his stomach. The only evidence he’d been hurt was a faint scar; it looked years old rather than hours. He looped his arms around Malachi’s neck and buried his face in the safe shelter of Malachi’s neck, content to stand under the hot spray and turn his brain off for a while.

When the water began to cool, Malachi finished washing them both up and guided Luke from the shower. He wrapped them both in fluffy towels and led Luke into the bedroom, where he pushed Luke down onto the bed and clambered up after him, pulling the blankets around them both.

“I’m still wet,” Luke protested weakly.

“Don’t care. Do you feel okay?”

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