I positioned myself beside him, one hand flat against his shoulder blade, the other gripping his forearm. The joint sat wrong under my palm.
If I didn't do it at all, the swelling would cut off circulation.
Some choices weren't really choices at all.
"On three," I said, meeting his eyes. "One."
I pulled and rotated on one, and bone slid against bone, everything snapping back into place. The crack echoed off the cabin walls.
Lorenzo's scream tore through the leather belt, high and raw and animal. His entire body went rigid, back arching off the mattress.
I dropped his arm immediately, and my palms cupped his jaw, fingers sliding into his hair. "I'm sorry. Christ, I'm sorry. It's done. It's over."
He couldn't hear me. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he was gasping around the belt, his whole body shaking.
"Breathe." My thumbs stroked steady lines along his cheekbones. "You have to breathe. Focus on my voice. Come back to me."
Something in my tone must have reached him. His shaking eased slightly.
"That's it." My fingers tightened in his hair, anchoring him. "You're safe. I've got you."
I pressed my lips to his forehead and held them there, counting his pulse against my mouth, which was too fast and too erratic, but present and alive.
"With me, Lorenzo. Stay with me."
When his eyes finally opened and found mine, the look in them made something slot into place inside me.
"You could have warned me."
"You would have tensed up. It's better if you don't see it coming."
"Bastard." But there was no heat in it.
"Yeah." I pressed my forehead to his. "I'm sorry."
I reached for the antiseptic. "I need to clean your back now. And those puncture wounds in your shoulder."
He nodded and settled on his stomach with his face turned toward me.
I cut his shirt away easily, but the bandages were worse. They'd stuck to the wounds, and I had to peel them back slowly.
Lorenzo whimpered. "Fuck. Okay. That actually hurts."
"I know." My fingers worked at the edge of the bandage. "I'm sorry."
The last bandage peeled away, and the wounds were worse than I'd imagined, four parallel tears that ran from his right shoulder blade, deep enough that I could see muscle. The skin around them was hot, angry red spreading outward.
I could lose him to infection even after saving him from the eagles.
"God," I breathed.
"How bad?"
"It's bad. But I can fix it."I hope."This is going to hurt. The shoulder wounds especially."
"I know." A pause. "Just do it."
I started with the puncture wounds, pouring antiseptic directly into each one. Lorenzo's entire body went rigid, his fingers digging into the mattress.
