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“I’ve never done this,” I tell Silence, who comes to sit at my side.
“I’ve seen you heal much more severe injuries than this.” Silence’s pale eyes stare into mine with sincerity written all over his face. “I believe in you.”
“Jesus Christ, I just threw up in my fucking mouth.” Bane grunts, gesturing to his gaping wounds. “Either heal me, or I’ll patch myself back up. I need to get out there to look for Charity, and it’s already starting to bleed again.”
I grimace. He’s right about that.
Silence rests his hand on my thigh just above my knee and gives me a squeeze, like he’s saying he believes in me. It’s a surreal feeling.
“I don’t have my bracelet,” I say, shaking my hands out.
“You don’t need it,” Silence says, scooting closer to my side. “It likely would have hindered your gifts, anyway. Try focusing on the wound.”
I suck in a deep breath and lean forward. I know Bane has to be in an extreme amount of pain. My hands hover over his chest, but they’re shaking so hard it’s difficult to keep them still.
What if I mess this up?
What if I pull his life force instead of helping him heal? Does my magic even have this type of ability? What if I draw hunters to me by using too much at one time?
I’ve always been careful.
I don’t know my limits.
“You two tracked me here because I used my magic,” I say in a shaky tone.
“You won’t be using that much.” Silence runs his hand down my back. “Have faith in yourself.”
“I’m never going to understand how grown-ass men turn to mush over their mate,” Bane mutters.
“We’ll see how things go when we locate Charity,” Silence retorts.
My hands begin to glow.
I focus all my intent into sealing Bane’s wound, but I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. There’s no guarantee that I can heal anyone else’s injuries. Hell, I haven’t even managed to heal my own magical backlash, but I do know I can heal my own minor injuries that I’ve received outside of it.
My eyes fall closed as my magic pulses, telling me to start high and work my way down, much like unzipping a dress. Or, in this case, reverse zipping a wound. I have no idea, but when my hands heat, I know it’s working.
“Fuck, that’s not a great feeling,” Bane groans.
“Don’t be a giant set of balls,” Malice says from my right. I don’t know when he got back, but I don’t allow it to distract me.
“That is a surprisingly fitting comparison,” Silence says. He’s still running his hand down my back. I bite my lip. I’m really grateful that he’s not afraid of me and what I can do.
I blow out a breath and continue to work while Bane curses, Silence comforts me, and Malice continues to talk shit.
Once my hands stop feeling like I’ve dunked them in a warm bath, my eyes pop open to realize I’ve healed Bane’s wound all the way down to the opposite hip.
He studies the tattoos across his chest and stomach. “Wow, that’s impressive.”
They look perfect to me. Damn, my magic is skilled.
“All right, we’ve got a mom to save before her kid wakes up and realizes she’s missing,” Malice says in a strangely jovial tone.
“You know where my mate is?” Bane snarls, pushing himself up.
“Are you familiar with Dead Man’s Peak?” Malice laughs. Wrapping an arm around my middle, he plucks me off the coffee table and yanks Silence by the shirt. My Spring prince scrambles over the table to follow us into the darkened kitchen, while Bane roars. “Let’s hope he doesn’t bring the house down around him.”
Malice wraps his free arm around Silence and, in a blink, we’re spilling through the shadows.
