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“The door’s right there,” Eleazar said, and she followed his stare. “Save Christian’s objections, you’ll meet no resistance from us, little one.”
Little one. That was what Christian sometimes called her. He’d said it was a term that marked her innocence in this new world, not one that implied anything about her age or maturity.
Her jaw hardened and she straightened her spine, lowering her hands to her lap and drawing back her shoulders. “I won’t leave him.”
The bishop glanced down at his ravaged back. “In this condition?”
In that moment, she understood the full extent of their bond. “Ever.” The truth resonated in her, burrowing deep in a way that reformed so much of the inner turmoil that had tied her in fiery knots.
She looked down at her mate, lying in a puddle of his own blood as he drank from the bishop’s vein. Pride and affection overflowed her heart as she watched the life slowly return to his silver eyes.
Her mouth curved with deep-seated conceit as she smiled down at him. Forgetting the bishop’s presence, she looked into Christian’s watchful stare and smiled softly. “I’m not going anywhere.” His eyes closed with relief as she brushed a comforting hand over his hair. “You’re mine.”
CHAPTER 26
Christian’s back remained ravaged for days. However, it wasn’t the strain or the lingering ache that accompanied every motion that he despised, but the concern that followed him in his mate’s stare.
“Delilah, I’m fine.”
She dropped her gaze to the counter. The distance between them had stretched to the point that they both suffered the strain. “Your mother sent over a jar of ointment.”
“I’ll apply it later.”
She tsked. “You can’t apply it on your own. Why won’t you let me help you?”
The truth was he didn’t like her to see him in such a feeble state. Although the brunt of the pain had eased and he only suffered a minor twinge here and there where his broken skin had hardened, he still had a long journey of recovering mentally from such an ordeal.
He’d made sure to block Delilah from his thoughts during the flogging, ensuring that she not suffer any overlap of pain. But he had not completely severed their link, and once the whipping began, he’d been too distracted to do anything outside of bearing down and breathing through the horrific ordeal.
Through the entire four hundred lashes he suffered not only the excruciating bite of leather tearing open his skin, flaying his flesh off the muscle in chunks, but the maddening stab of his mate’s agony as she was forced to watch such a harrowing display. Her heartbreak and pity debilitated him. It was an unendurable misery he simply couldn’t abide.
Since the flogging, whenever she looked at him with concern, his stress heightened with the need to soothe her worries. He’d decided to swallow any discomfort and complete the process of healing on his own.
“I must run an errand. I’ll be back within the hour. Do you need anything?”
Flour coated the front of her apron when she faced him. She’d been attempting to follow a recipe Sister Grace had offered for shoofly pie. “Where are you going?”
“I need to take something to my mother’s.”
She frowned. “She was just here.”
He reached for the basket of produce and grabbed a fist full of root vegetables Delilah collected from the garden. “Carrots. The rabbits have been stealing hers.”
She scowled at him. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Rather than dispute the truth, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll return soon.”
Guilt rode him all the way to his mother’s house. She was expecting him, despite appearing displeased when she opened the door. “Come in.”
He followed her to the kitchen.
“This isn’t right, Christian. You’re being deceitful to your mate.”
“This is best for everyone. Delilah’s suffered enough. Everything will revert to normal once my strength returns.”
“You’re newly mated. I find it hard to imagine you’ve experienced normal yet.” She placed the mason jar of blood on the table. “Here.”
He unscrewed the lid and guzzled down the potent blend. The glass was still warm from the contents. Her aged blood took immediate effect on his aching nerves. “Thank you.”
“I need a favor.”
Anxious to return to his mate, he moved toward the back door. “What do you need?”
“I want one of your hunting rifles.”
Of all the favors he expected his mother to ask, that was not one he anticipated. “Are you going hunting?”
“Der schrim.”
“For protection from what?”
She met his stare and he understood she wasn’t going to justify her actions. “How much more blood will you need?” She was bartering.
“Have you asked the bishop’s permission?” Weapons were not permitted in the hands of females, and males were only allowed to use firearms for hunting, but immortals had little need for such things.
“Eleazar doesn’t understand. He actually suggested I find a husband if I feel unsafe.”
“Not a terrible idea,” he muttered. “Mother, you know the laws.”
