Page 78 of Interion

“Could they hurt me?”

“They worship you. They would never harm you.”

I held out my hand to the small shadows in a silent invitation. They rushed onto my palm, scurrying wildly, tumbling over each other and merging together. I noticed they were warm, and the sensation felt good, but the pain began to return and I focused on not closing my hand with them there. I squeezed my eyes shut as the pain increased, but then, unexpectedly, I felt the shadows moving along my arm and spreading across my skin. The pain faded abruptly. Only a dull discomfort remained, but it was tolerable. I stared open-mouthed at my hand, now wrapped in dark tendrils.

Relieved, I rested my head on the edge of the bathtub and let my body relax. I was so amazed by the effect that I just stared at the shadows for another moment, silently thanking them for the miracle. Zion seemed to sense what was happening and turned to look at me.

“The pain is almost completely gone. How is that possible?”

“The shadows are beings that devour immaterial things—feelings, positive and negative energies that living beings emit. Pain is part of that.” He seemed slightly surprised by what had happened. “But this is the first time they’ve done this for another person.”

I stared at the shadows, hypnotized by the way they moved across my skin.

“You never feel pain?” I asked, curious. I knew nothing about the man beside me, and he seemed hesitant to answer.

“I feel the basics.” He looked away from me. “If I get hurt, I’ll feel it. They only take the pain if it’s very strong and my life depends on it.”

“I like them,” I whispered, afraid of saying something that could be misinterpreted. Zion stayed still for a few seconds, then turned to me again.

“They’re happy to know that.”

Up close, in the bright white light, I could see there was a scar on his eyebrow.

“You have scars.” I’d pointed out something so obvious that I wiggled my feet in the water in visible discomfort, resisting the urge to slap my own forehead. I noticed I couldn’t feel my legs or the movement.

“Old. It happened during...” His gaze seemed distant. “My first battle.”

“Do you want me to remove it?” Removing scars was simple for me—I could fix it in a matter of minutes.

“No. It’s a memory. I like having it here.” He touched the mark above his eyebrow, then rubbed his eyes, looking exhausted.

“You’re tired. I think we’d better go to sleep.”

“Do you feel well enough to get out of the bathtub?”

“Yes, I hardly feel any pain.”

I fidgeted anxiously in the pile of foam covering me. It would be a struggle to get out of this bathtub without being able to move my feet properly, but I thought it better not to tell him that. Zion stood up and handed me the towel folded on the bathtub step.

“Do you need help?” he asked, staring at the bathtub. His eyes were red with exhaustion. “I can carry you to the bed if you need me to.”

I felt my cheeks flush and quickly shook my head.

“No. It’s fine, I can manage on my own. Not to mention that thing with the bond could happen, and I don’t want to have to deal with that again.”

That was my biggest fear. I didn’t want another awkward moment between the two of us. After what happened in the locker room, our relationship had gone completely off the rails, and I wasn’t eager to repeat that. Not that there was a train left to derail now that it had already crashed, but at least I didn’t want to make things even worse.

“Those things take a break during this period. It won’t happen.”

I thought about it. I still felt irrationally attracted to Zion, but during our fight or when he touched me, my hormones hadn’t gone haywire. His presence just radiated protection.

“Right, but I really don’t want your help.”

“If you need me, just call. I’m going to shower and I’ll be right back,” he said, looking away. Zion turned and left the room, closing the door. This time, the shadows didn’t follow him, staying wrapped around my belly.

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Getting out of the bathtub was a battle. My legs wobbled like a newborn foal’s, and I must have slipped about three times before reaching the bed, but at least I managed to do everything on my own.