Page 63 of Incoronate
Steam rose from the bathtub where I’d added salts to the water, the scent of lavender mixing with melting wax. My muscles were screaming and my head felt stuffed with cotton balls. And underneath it all was that hollowed-out sensation that only came from losing too much blood too fast.
I’d lost count of how many times Dominic had compelled me. How many times I’d fought my way free only to have him pull me right back under. Again and again until my mind felt as battered as my body. We’d only stopped when Gabriel had finally come back to check on me and basically ordered me to rest before I collapsed.
I peeled off my shirt, moving slowly to avoid jarring anything that hurt. Which was pretty much everything. The bite marks on my collarbone caught my attention as I glanced down. Small puncture wounds, already healing but still visible. My fingers traced over one without thinking, remembering the rush of venom, the pull of his compulsion. The way my body had wanted to surrender even as my mind fought back.
A wave of dizziness hit me without warning. I gripped the edge of the sink, my knuckles going white as the room swayed sideways. Just blood loss. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I just needed to get into the bath and let the heat do its work.
A gentle knock on the door stole my attention.
“Jemma?”
My stomach did that stupid little flip at the sound of Trace’s deep voice. “Yeah?”
A pause. “Can I come in?”
I looked down at myself. Sports bra and jeans. Nothing he hadn’t seen before. “It’s unlocked.”
The door opened with barely a sound. Trace stepped inside and closed it behind him, turning the lock with a simpletwist that made the space feel infinitely smaller. Safer. Like the rest of the house had just been shut out.
His eyes found mine immediately, that blue gaze sweeping over my face with the kind of careful attention that always made me feel like he was checking me for damage I hadn’t told him about yet. Then his gaze dipped, sliding down my throat, my collarbone, the curve of my bra, every inch of bare skin lit gold by the candlelight. He wet his lips slowly, almost without realizing it, his eyes darkening a shade by the time they came back up to mine.
“You okay?” he asked carefully, like he was trying hard not to spook me.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said automatically but then amended my answer when his eyebrow shot up disbelievingly. “Just a little dizzy and tired. But I’m okay. I promise.”
His dropped briefly again. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
I smiled as the bond hummed between us with twoverydifferent currents at once. His concern for me, pure and protective in a way that always made my chest feel warm and whole. And underneath it, that low, restless heat that always lived just beneath the surface with him whenever we were alone in a room together.
“I’m only taking a bath,” I reminded him. “I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”
His glanced down at my hand still gripping the edge of the sink, my knuckles bone white. When his eyes lifted back to mine, something in his expression hardened. Like he’d just confirmed whatever he’d already suspected when he walked in here.
He took one step closer, then another, the movement silent and unhurried, as though the room were rearranging itself around us, until he was standing in front of me.
“Sit,” he said.
He wasn’t asking, but it also wasn’t a command. Not the way Dominic’s would have been. It just made my body obey before my pride could dig up a reason not to.
I lowered myself onto the tiled edge of the bathtub, swallowing hard as another faint wave of dizziness rolled through me. His eyes dropped to the bruises scattered along my arms, then to the marks at my throat. His jaw flexed once as he moved closer. Close enough that I had to tilt my head back to hold his gaze. Nothing else gave him away, but I felt the protective surge through the bond like a current changing direction.
“You’re not going to be strong enough to fight anyone if you drain yourself completely.” His hand came up, his fingers impossibly gentle as they tilted my face to the side, exposing my throat to the candlelight.
I held my breath as his thumb lightly traced over one of the bite marks, his touch cool and medicinal against my heated skin.
“I know,” I said, and it wasn’t a lie.
I’d meant to slow down the compulsion training earlier. To take a break between sessions. But every time I thought about the Horsemen coming back, about their voices wrapping around my will and pulling me under, the fear overrode everything else. Better to push too hard now than not be ready when they returned.
His eyes flicked to the bite marks again, then lifted back to mine. “You’re really pale.”
“I’m always pale.”
“Not like this.” He crouched in front of me, close enough that the scent of soap and steam disappeared completely, replaced with his woodsy cologne and the something distinctly him that always undid me a little. Cedar. Darkspices. That indefinable warmth that always felt like a better version of home.
His fangs descended with a soft click that still made my stomach dip. I watched the transformation with bated breath, the way his eyes darkened, the way that predatory edge crept in despite the gentleness of his touch. No matter how many times I witnessed it, I wasn’t sure I’d ever fully get used to seeing him as a Revenant. It was still strange to reconcile the boy I’d fallen in love with and the creature he’d been turned into. Stranger still that I loved him just the same. Maybe even more, knowing what he’d given up to come back to me.
He brought his wrist to his mouth and bit down without hesitation. When he extended his arm to me, crimson welling from the puncture wounds, his eyes locked on mine.
