Page 9 of Mated
He smirks. “Nice language.”
For the first time in seven years, my face scalds. “I’m in a hospital with no memory of getting here, cocksucker. You’d have a foul mouth too.”
His smile is straight white teeth, but it’s menacing. Wild. My stomach gives an odd flip. “Cocksucker? Damn, woman. You don’t even know me.” He pushes from the wall and walks closer.
There is something about being flat on my back that leaves me feeling oddly vulnerable with all that tan muscle so close. I start to push from the bed. “Don’t need to—”
Calloused, hot hands land on my shoulders, searing me through the thin hospital gown.
I still.
My head tilts back, and my eyes roll from a chiseled expanse of tattooed chest now visible under his gaping shirt, to the narrow, square line of his jaw above me. A single hoop pierces his nose, and the lines of his cheekbones could cut fucking glass.
His silver eyes are almost dove grey, swirling. Inhuman. “You may want to stay in bed,” he advises, and a faint echo laces his tone.
I push against him. He won’t budge.
“Let me up.”
He frowns at me. “Doctor’s orders. You have to stay in bed.” Those hot eyes trail over me. “You look fine to me, but I don’t have a med degree.” His heart thuds under my hand.
The door opens. “T, stop hounding the woman.” A tall dark-haired male pushes into the room, followed closely by a twenty-ish guy with a braid of solid white curls and spring-green eyes.
Fae. Has to be.
But the guy holding me—T—doesn’t move.
The dark-haired guy sweeps his midnight gaze over me. “How do you feel?” His voice is deep and trying for polite. It falls miles short.
“You the Doc?” I snap.
He raises a brow. “Not even in the fucking ballpark.” He turns to T, and something dark flashes at the small of his back.
A handgun?
I struggle in earnest. “Who the hell are you people?” I ask, voice incredulous. High.
They turn back to me, expressions mild. “Keep your voice down,” Fae-guy snaps.
My brows narrow and my lips purse. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Shit. I said not to crowd her, you three. T. Move.” The new voice is feminine and young.
But they part like the god-damned Red Sea as a curvaceous young woman with brown waves walks between them. Even T releases me and moves one step back from the side of my bed.
The woman’s blue eyes track over me. “Hi, I’m Lilah. What’s your name?”
My eyes dip behind her to the wall of muscle.
She waves her hand. “Ignore the brutes. They growl and generally just brood, but they’re decent sorts.”
A low laugh sounds from the open doorway behind the white-haired guy. “Apparently, Lilah is delusional with the transition.”
The tallest male with the dark eyes growls. “Caine. Shut … your … trap.”
Another chuckle fills the room. Lilah rolls her eyes, but otherwise ignores them. “Sorry. It’s been a really long night for you, I’m sure, and even with your super healing—”
My brain checks out and dives right back in. “I’m sorry. Do what?” I look between them, sure I misheard.
