Page 110 of By the Flames of Her Fury

“Then you should’ve told me you were injured,” she whispered back. She unwound the bandage, exposing the red burn marks from where I’d gripped the chain. “How did this happen?”

“When I tried to grab the amulet off the corpse.”

“Fates, Everett, that was close. If it had broken your skin…” She closed her eyes. “You have to be more careful.”

I put my hand on top of hers. “That goes for you, too.”

“At least I can heal myself. You should’ve let me help you. That’s why you’re the stubborn one.” She swatted my bad arm in jest, and I winced.

She froze. Her eyes narrowed accusatorily. “Are you kidding me? Another injury?”

“We’re not all invincible Shifter savior Lightbringers.”

She crossed her arms, unamused, and pointed at my shirt. “Take it off.”

My lips twitched. “I will if you will.”

“Everett, this isn’t funny. I want to help you.”

“Really?” I leaned in, close enough to smell her smoky amber and rose scent beneath the must and dirt from the crypt. “Because last night, you wanted nothing to do with me.”

The column of her throat moved as she swallowed. “There will never be a world where I want nothing to do with you,” she murmured. “But sometimes what we want isn’t what’s best for us.”

Golden eyes burned into me, full of so many unspoken words. I wanted to peel them from her. I wanted to break down the walls she erected so high, I didn’t even know if she could get past them.

When I didn’t respond, she asked, “Will you let me heal you?” Her forehead pinched. “Please.”

After a moment, I nodded. She guided me to sit on the edge of the small bed. My legs parted, and she stepped smoothly between my thighs.

“Shoulder first,” she said, running her fingers over the joint. They skimmed the edge of my open shirt, nails scraping the songbird tattoo on my heart. Her eyes lingered on the ink. When her fingers pressed into my skin, my breath snagged. Her hand drifted lower down my chest, and desire unfurled in me, sharp and dangerous.

I snatched her wrist. “Shoulder first,” I rasped.

Pink crept up her cheeks. Her gaze flicked to my lips, then my eyes. “Right.” She placed her hand on my upper arm and whispered, “Revie scurae.”

The familiar sensation of a spell taking shape pushed on my lungs before snapping into place. I barely felt it when my arm popped back into its socket. I rotated my shoulder, instantly relieved.

“Now for the hand.” Vera trailed her fingers down my right arm and to my open hand, where the charred outline of the amulet’s chain rested. Fingertips tracing the lines, she repeated, “Revie scurae.”

The burn marks faded, the skin as good as new. “Thank you.”

Her fingers lingered on my palm. “Don’t hide it from me next time. You don’t need to be in pain for that long.”

I was about to close my hand around hers when she swiftly backed away. My fingers clenched thin air. I rubbed the back of my neck instead, already missing her being so near.

“You seem to have adjusted to Alchemy without your herbs and charms,” I commented, needing to change the subject before I did something idiotic, like beg her to come back.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “The magic feels different here. Stronger. Maybe it’s because…”

She trailed off, and I raised an eyebrow. “Because, what?”

“Look, I just—I know you don’t trust this place, and I don’t want to argue about it again.”

I sighed. “I’m sorry I got upset last night.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. I wasn’t any better.”

“You trusted them so easily, which isn’t like you,” I said. “And I think…maybe you want this place to be everything you hoped it would be so badly that it’s becoming a blind spot.” The second the words left my mouth, I regretted how harsh they sounded. “But that doesn’t mean I think you’re wrong,” I added hastily. “Or that I get to tell you how to feel. I know I can’t show up and make decisions for you.”