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How the fuck was he coming back to life? I’d melted him to nothing. Watching him regrow again forced last night’s dinner up my esophagus.
“Let’s get out of here.”
His voice broke me from my shock, dragging me back to him. Sebastian. My soon-to-be husband, and until now, the man who’d avoided me since our captivity.
“I melted him,” I stated.
“Don’t feel bad.”
“I don’t.”
I wanted to stay and watch, but the concern etched onto Sebastian’s face forced me away. We walked down the corridor, and he handed me his jacket. I pulled it around myself, glancing back at Hamza and the putrefying mess on the surrounding ground from his old body.
The crowd disbursed as we approached, none of them looking at Sebastian. No. All eyes were on me and radiating from them was fear. I could almost taste it as we left the corridor.
Once we were out of the main corridor, Sebastian’s wings exploded outward in a swirl of black. Before I could protest, he swept me into his arms, his hand firmly against my thigh as he took off.
Finally, landing us at the door to my bedroom, he let me go. I toppled back, and he moved to the guard at my door, whispering something. He moved out of the way, and Sebastian pushed me inside, locking the door behind us.
He looked me up and down, his eyes manic. “What happened?”
“Hamza tried to rape me.” I swallowed thickly.
He turned, his eyes darkening. “Motherfucker!” He slammed the door so hard it shattered the wood. Splinters stuck out from his knuckles when he glanced back at me, cursing under his breath. He paced forward, stopping in front of me. A world of words swam behind his dark-blue eyes, an ocean of the unspoken hanging between us, but nothing left his lips. Instead, his eyes darted down at my body, his jacket and black, lacy lingerie the only thing on me. Cold swirls hit me, erecting the hairs on my arms.
“Sebastian, it’s o—”
“Don’t say that.” He stepped back. “If you hadn’t had your powers—” His voice broke off at the end.
I didn’t want to stare at his tortured expression. Instead, I averted my gaze to the window, shock still numbing me.
“Your hands,” he said, reminding me of the welts covering them.
“Yeah.” I stretched out my fingers, examining my palms. “It was worth it.”
He touched me gently, and I flinched. His features softened, and he regained control over his emotions. I’d never seen him lose it like that. “Can I heal you?” he asked, his voice gentler than I was used to.
Swallowing thickly, I nodded. His fangs elongated, and slowly, he sunk them into his skin, his eyes evaluating my reaction the whole time.
Blood erupted from the puncture wounds on his wrist, and as much as I wanted to refuse the help, I couldn’t ignore the stinging sensation swimming up my arms from the burn. Soon, the adrenaline would wear off and the pain from my injuries would take over. I knew how it worked, and I wasn’t so stubborn that I would suffer unnecessarily.
Closing the distance between us, I pulled his wrist to my mouth, placing my lips around the cut. His blood trickled down my throat, feeding the power inside of me. As I gulped it down, trying my best not to gag against the tangy thickness. The magic moved with me more than ever before, and it was still untapped, with unending potential. It was a part of me. A part I wasn’t prepared to give up. But I had no choice.
I ran my tongue over the marks, tasting what was left before the skin healed, then wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. My gaze climbed his body, meeting his. We hadn’t been alone since we were in the dungeons, when he’d promised not to turn me in. I begged him to turn me there so we could escape. He’d lied to me, and I’d saved him, but as he stood, observing me, I saw how much he didn’t want this.
“Thanks,” I spluttered.
“I’m going to murder Hamza for this.”
I grabbed his arm. “Don’t.” Reason splashed through me. “Sargon will kill you.”
“I don’t give a fuck. He can’t get away with this.”
My eyes clamped shut. “I’ll tell my father what happened. He’ll execute him. Please.” I tugged his arm, and he let out a long exhale, brushing his thumb over my hand.
The skin peeled away, revealing a new layer as I watched my palms heal, marveling at the magic in their blood. They had an elixir of immortality in their blood, from the goddess Salenia. Sometimes I forget it could do some good—like heal. “Sebastian…”
“Hamza has too much power here,” he said apologetically. “Sargon won’t kill him. He might lock him away.” He shook his head and slowly released me. “Wait here for me. Go into the bathroom and lock the door.”
