I lay over frozen earth, the icy chill at my back encasing each feather in a prison of sharp frost. But it was a dichotomous place.
Though my wings were frozen in place, my chest, my thighs, my neck were warm—hot—burning with a soothing touch thatcould only come from the bare skin of one meeting the bare skin of another.
The wound on my neck began to pulse, my heart timed to the same beat. A creature covered me, moving slowly, luxuriously—that languid place of enjoying the fruit of the flesh with all the time in the world to consume it.
I couldn’t see who it was, only feel, my eyes blinking rapidly, trying to wake, but trying so hard to stay.
And with one gasp and shudder, teeth dug back into my skin, igniting my body in fire, melting the ice at my back and whispering one word into my ear.
Mine.
CHAPTER 19
Arthur
“No,”I growled, pacing in front of Reshina’s door.
“But, Master!” Piff cried, lifting the plate of beef liver covered in some sort of onion and mushroom gravy. “She requested I wake her! And she needs food to replenish the blood you—the Beast—took from her!”
“I gave my order. You’re not waking her.”
His face crumpled into the fiercest frown I’d ever seen. He set the tray on the ground, stomping his foot. “At least let me check her wound. You owe her that.”
“No,” I said simply, continuing to wear out the stone in front of her door. “I won’t risk you waking her. She’s healed fine before.”
Piff twisted his lips to the side. “This wound was…different.”
I raised a brow.
“It’s…not…healing from my magic.”
“WHAT!” I roared, slamming the door open, breaking its hinges.
“Master!” he squealed, following at my heels. “You’ll frighten her awake!”
Knowing he was correct, I gritted my teeth instead of demanding she wake and show me the bite. It took just a fewsteps to get to her side, but I knew something was off from the moment I saw her. Her body tossed in the sheets of deep green, sweat beading across her forehead, plastering her long dark hair to her face.
The moment I got to her side, she groaned, her chest heaving. I gently touched her forehead. “She’s burning up,” I said softly as Piff climbed up next to her other side, peeling back the bandage over her wound.
The puncture was a bright crimson, the skin around the holes swollen far more than they had been when I’d left her at her door.
“Piff,” I muttered, and he changed immediately into a golden jar of salve in my hand. I used two fingers to scoop the paste, gently spreading a thin layer over the marks. She groaned again, tossing her head about.
“Fetch a cool cloth,” I ordered next and Piff popped back into a man, scurrying to the washing room. I pressed the cloth across her forehead, already feeling the heat rise through it.
“What is this?” I asked the Beast, waking him from his slumber deep within me.
MINE.
I growled in frustration. “What is this wound you’ve given her? It’s infected. What have you done?”
BRINGER HEAL. FROM YOU.
“How?” I gritted, holding onto what little patience I had left.
I BITE. YOU SOOTHE.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “Piff, this is worse than I thought.”
