“Get your hands off my mate,” Rhys commanded. Even weak and near death, his dominance was absolute.
My hands repeatedly hitting his chest seemed to get Soren’s attention, and he released, looking down at me quizzically. When Soren noticed my gaze elsewhere, he peered up and came face-to-face with Rhys.
“Ah, so it did work.” Faced with an angry Rhys, Soren showed little to no change in his expression.
I wiggled out of his hold but my injured leg finally gave out and I crumpled to the floor like a horse new to its limbs.
“Leave us,” Rhys said, his eyes on me. The bedsheets pooled around his waist and even though he still looked white beneath his tan, he no longer seemed like he was seconds away from death.
Blood trickled down the side of my neck in a warm, wet slide and I couldn’t bear to look at my mate as I remembered Soren’s hands on my body. Warmth filled my cheeks, and I kept my eyes on my lacerated feet.
Soren backed away with a silky smile. “It’s been a pleasure,” he said before closing the door behind him.
The click of the lock echoed with finality. I kept my eyes on my feet, wishing very much that I’d been the one lost to sweet oblivion. It was my fault they hurt him. I shouldn’t have been so careless. Despair mixed with regret. I hadn’t been here a week, and I’d already caused so much trouble.
“I’ve never met anyone with such a disregard for their own safety.” Rhys sighed, his forearms resting on his knees. “Protecting you has proven to be more work than twenty years of guarding the entirety of Acasia.”
I was so sure!
Had I the energy I would have taken grave offense to that statement. “I’m too tired to argue with you,” I said instead, eyelids drooping even as my words trailed off. “We can argue later.”
He leaned down to offer a hand and I crawled toward him, gratefully. There may be a lot for us to talk about, a lot for us to work through, but I needed the reassurance of his body against mine, if only for a short while. He hefted me up and over his body on the other side of the bed. I crawled underneath the reassuring weight of the furs and toward the heat of his body. As we’d done a thousand other times it felt like, my head came to rest on his shoulder. It was difficult to resist the call to be close to my mate.
“I want to… thank you,” he said carefully. “For saving my life.”
I yawned, the reassuring beat of his heart steady in my ear. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
He shifted beside me and a hand came to push the hair away from my face. I wished I had the energy to look up at him, to discern the meaning behind his tone, but my eyes simply wouldn’t obey my commands. “When I’ve regained my strength, you’ll get the punishment you deserve for putting yourself in danger in the first place.”
I swallowed thickly, but held my tongue. Frankly, I felt like I deserved whatever punishment he levied, considering what I put him through, what I risked. Seeing him hovering so close to death wasn’t a memory I was likely to forget, but was not punishment enough, I was certain.
“Did a healer look at your wounds?” Rhys asked, noting the blood staining my dress. I managed to pry my eyes open and glance down.
“No,” I replied through another yawn, then snuggled closer. “We were more concerned about the dragon’s bane than anything else. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Rhys cursed and shouted for the maids, who were no doubt hovering in the hallway awaiting his orders. “Bring the healer. Send for hot water and towels. Now,” he barked when the maids stared at him wide-eyed, no doubt shocked by their master’s sudden resurrection.
“Tell Alaric he’s awake,” I added more politely, remembering to add a ‘please’ at the end.
“Healer first,” Rhys instructed, voice firm. “Her wounds need to be tended as soon as possible.”
I inched closer to his warmth. “It’s all right, Rhys. I barely feel it anymore.” It was true. The anesthetic in Soren’s bite washed away most of the pain. Or maybe it was the exhaustion. Either way, my injuries had ceased throbbing.
His arms tightened around me. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered into my hair. The shifter inside of me reveled in his presence.
Then his words penetrated and I frowned. “That’s not amusing.”
“Quiet,” he said.
My response was muffled against his chest as I slipped back into unconsciousness. Through the haze of half-sleep, I heard the deep tones of Rhys’s voice against my cheek. A flurry of activity commenced around me, but the only thing I cared about was the comforting circle of his arms.
“Come on now, Elena,” he said. I batted him away with a hand and he sighed. “Wake up for me, baby.” He lifted me up and my head lolled backward. I shied away from the bright candlelight, but Rhys shook me a little, forcing me to glare at him. “Come on now, you have to drink this.”
I pushed the mug away. “I can’t. I’m too tired.”
“I know you are, love, but if you don’t, that wound will fester and much as I enjoy your stubbornness, I enjoy your legs even more.”
Rhys tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and I blinked up at him. He was leaning over me with one hand underneath my shoulders for support. He used his free hand to lift the mug to my lips. I managed to sip some of the bitter concoction and winced as the slimy brew slid down my throat.
