Page 55 of Promise of Darkness
I touch his skin, but every inch of him feels frozen.
And I’m dangerously warm.
Don’t you dare even think it.“You are not getting naked with the Prince of Evernight.”
The silence echoes accusingly.
If he dies, then I’ll bear this burden on my conscience.
Hedidsave my life, after all.
Slipping out of my shirt and breeches, I pause with my fingers on the hem of my short chemise. It’s not as though he can take advantage of this moment of weakness, but still….
I slide under the fur cloaks with him. My chemise shields me from the press of his naked skin against mine, but I’m desperately aware of how close I came to dying today.
I can’t help a shiver as I wrap my arms and body around him. Every inch of him is like ice. I’m practically glued to him, rubbing my palms against his arms to try and force his circulation to warm him.
“If you die,” I whisper, “then you’ll never realize you finally got me in your bed.”
There’s no answer.
* * *
He’sno better by morning.
Cursing him under my breath, I check his wounds and try to rub heat into his skin. Black shadows darken the veins near his deepest wounds, rousing my worst fears.
I rest my head on his chest, listening to the racing beat of his heart.Iron poisoning.The fever will be coming. And with his wounds barely knitting together, I’m not certain he’ll be able to survive it.
This calls for drastic measures.
I remove his bloodied bandages, washing the wounds clean. Still raw and bloody, which bodes ill. Fae heal from practically anything. This should have been smooth, unblemished skin by now.
The fire of my magic would burn the iron poisoning from his blood. If I could summon it….
“I really hope you’re not relying on this,” I whisper. My magic is erratic at the best of times. Healing is a gift through my mother’s bloodlines, which makes it easier for me than most, though at best, I can heal minor scrapes and bruises.
There’s no answer.
The tattoos on his chest swirl over his pectorals like shadows, dark and inky. They look like they’re about to separate from his skin and envelop him, the way his magic did earlier. I reach out tentatively, placing my palm over the worst of those puncture wounds. I've seen that symbol before. Seen those tattoos? An aching pain lances behind my eye, and I gasp, pushing away from the thought. The ache subsides with a weary grumble, but the threat of it remains.
Setting my palm over his bandages, I risk letting a little of my power stir through the wound. A gasp parts his lips, and those sultry black lashes flicker against his tanned cheeks. Dangerously green eyes blink open.
“Vi?”
Thank Maia. A gasp escapes me. “You son of a bitch. I thought you were dying.”
"Sorry to… disappoint," he rasps, and I grab the cup I filled with water and tip it to his lips, cupping the back of his neck to help him drink.
Thiago collapses back on the furs, the muscles in his throat straining as his chest heaves. “What happened?” He blinks, turning his head. “Where…?”
“I found your hunting cabin. And I saved your life.”
“So, you did.” He laughs, but it dies suddenly, and he repeats, a little more softly, “So you did.”
“Don’t think I’m not going to hold it over your head. You owe me.”
“A life for a life.” His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. “You didn't leave me."
