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We stop outside a cave with a curtain across the front for privacy. “Onyx is inside,” Dusk says, then casts a glance back the way he came. “Do you need anything else?”
I shake my head, push back the curtain, and walk in.
As my eyes adjust to the lack of light inside the cave, a blanket rustles and a man moans.Onyx. He had eaten a little with the others, then came back inside, a pained expression on his face.
He’s still healing, even though he’d acted like he was all better. He’d had a deep and round wound. My touch might have removed the evidence of his injury, but I’m sure there was damage I couldn’t see.
Even some of the most powerful fae healers don’t have the power to heal an injury like that all at once, so I doubt I could either.
But in small bursts, so long as he doesn’t get wild and reinjure himself, and my abilities don’t wither and I don’t end up married to the Shadow King, I should hopefully just keep getting stronger and better at all of this.
Going to the smaller fire inside the cave, I stir the embers, brightening the cave, and put more logs on it, along with kindling. Within a few seconds, it’s definitely brighter. At least bright enough to see each other.
“Are you hurting?” I mouth to Onyx.
He lifts a brow, but doesn’t even try to communicate back.
“Do you always have to be a stubborn ass?”
His expression is one of surprise for a few seconds before it’s blank once more.
“You know, for a guy who keeps trying to get me to mate him, or whatever, you’re not exactly being very nice. I mean, I don’t know how dating and courting works where you’re from, but where I’m from, guys try to be nice at the very least. But also romantic too.”
He doesn’t react, but he shifts, and then I see the pained look that shoots across his face.
Guilt eases some of my frustration. “You know, it’s okay to hurt. You can tell me.”
I go to sit beside him on his pile of blankets. It’s much softer than it looks, and the blankets are plush beneath Onyx. He stares up at me, and I reach out to put my hand on his chest. The wound on his back is closed. Whatever injury is left is inside now.
“I’m going to try to heal you a little more.”
He catches my hand, his expression unreadable.
“Trust me, okay?”
After a second, he releases me.
So, I look down at his expansion of perfect skin. I concentrate on the big man. His breathing is low and slow. Almost calm. But I didn’t imagine the look of pain on his face, nor do I think he’d be laying down right now if he was feeling one hundred percent back to his old self before the injury.
His skin is surprisingly warm. And kind of nice. Hard and defined and really sexy, if I’m being honest with myself. For a second, I’m distracted, and sorely tempted to run my hand over those big muscles of his. He’s made it clear that he thinks becoming his mate is essential, so I’m kind of tempted to see how he reacts to me touching him. But he’s also made it clear that he doesn’t really want me as his mate.
With Phantom and Dusk, I can tell they find me attractive and like the idea of me being with them. With Onyx, I almost feel like he sees this situation as something he can’t escape from, and so has accepted that we have to be together. Like an arranged marriage to someone he finds irritating.
It makes me push away the thought of touching him romantically. The last thing I want to do is cross some line with him and have him no longer trust me to heal him.
“Okay, time to work,” I whisper to myself.
Then, I focus on my hand and my desire to heal. The desire flows through me, and my light begins to glow brighter and brighter. I let out a slow breath, glad the ability is still there and working. I’m surprised when he actually covers my hand with his own. The glow spreads light over his face, and it’s like I’m staring at an angel. He looks up at me and smiles.
It’s the first time he’s smiledatme. He’s breathtaking. More so in the golden glow of my hands.
I am mesmerized. Maybe hypnotized. I’m captivated in a way I barely remember anymore. I’ve only felt this way once before, and it feels as if it was a thousand years ago.
Unable to help myself, I lean closer to press my mouth to his. Even if I wanted to stop myself, there’s no way I could resist him. It’s like the pool of the moon and the waves.
Unstoppable.
As we kiss, I feel the fullness of his lips, the gentle caress of his thumb on my cheek, the murmur of his breath on my skin. I’m as intoxicated as if I spent a night shooting tequila. Desire flows through me, making my inner muscles clench and heat pool at my core.
