Page 64 of Incoronate
“Heal,” he said. When I didn’t immediately take his offer, he added, “Please. For me.”
I should have refused on principle. Out of stubbornness. Out of some ridiculous need to prove I could handle everything on my own. But I didn’t want to deny him. Not this. Not anything. Especially when I knew I shouldn’t. If the whispers came back tonight, I needed to be at full strength. I couldn’t afford to be anything less than whole.
I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and brought it to my lips. The first taste of his blood hit my tongue and everything else faded. Warmth spread through me, vital and electric, chasing away the exhaustion like dawn breaking through a long night. It wasn’t the euphoric haze of a Revenant’s bite. This part was always different. Cleaner. Restorative, like energy flooding back into depleted cells, knitting bruises together, and sealing wounds.
The bond between us flared to life, thrumming beneath my skin as his blood worked through my system. I could feel him through it now, clearer than before. The protectivenessthat lived in his chest right next to something softer. Something that always felt a lot like destiny. Like our soulmate bond.
I felt the moment his strength wavered, just the slightest dip in that solid presence, and I pulled back immediately. My tongue swept over my bottom lip, catching the last traces of his blood as I forced myself not to come back for seconds. The last thing I wanted to do was take too much and weaken him completely.
He reached up, his thumb brushing across my mouth to wipe away a streak of blood I’d missed. Then he leaned in and kissed me, soft and slow, tasting himself on my lips. His mouth moved against mine with a tenderness that made my chest ache. Everything else fell away. The exhaustion. The fear. The pain. Until there was only this. Only him. Only the way he made me feel cherished and whole and impossibly safe.
When he pulled back, his eyes appeared to have darkened to a shade closer to flint than sky, though it could have just been the candlelight playing tricks on me.
He straightened suddenly, pulling me up with him in one fluid motion. “Turn around.”
I blinked back at him. “Why?”
His hands gripped my shoulders, gently turning me to face the mirror. “You’re not getting in the bath with your jeans on.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks as understanding hit. “Right, but… I can undress myself you know.”
“I know.” His fingers found the hem of my sports bra, barely grazing the skin at my waist. “But I want to take care of you.”
The words knocked something loose in my chest. I met his eyes in the mirror and found them darker than before, more serious. I nodded, not trusting my voice.
He was so careful with me. Reverent, almost, as he slowly pulled the sports bra up and over my head. The fabric whispered as it fell to the tile. I kept my eyes on his reflection, watching his jaw tighten as more skin came into view. The bruises from sparring with Gabriel. The bite marks from Dominic. Evidence of how hard I’d pushed myself today, all of it painted in flickering gold from the candlelight dancing across my skin.
His fingers traced a dark bruise along my ribs. “Does this hurt?”
I shook my head, barely able to speak. “Not anymore.”
His hands moved to my jeans, popping the button open before sliding the zipper down. The sound seemed impossibly loud in the quiet. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and pushed the denim down my hips, kneeling to help me step out of them.
When he stood again, his eyes swept over me achingly slow. Taking in every mark, every imperfection, every sign of strain. The way he looked at me made me feel breathless.
“You’re so beautiful, Jem,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Before I could figure out how to respond, his hands were at my waist, lifting me like I weighed nothing. I gasped and grabbed his shoulders as he carried me the two steps to the tub and lowered me into the water.
The heat wrapped around me instantly. I sank deeper into the bubbles with a sound that was probably embarrassing, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. Every sore muscle seemed to sigh in relief.
“Better?” he asked through a smile I could hear in his voice.
“You have no idea.” I let my head fall back against the edge of the tub, my eyes slipping closed as the tension started to drain away from me.
Through the haze of warmth and steam, I heard him move closer. When I opened my eyes again, he’d rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and lowered himself on the edge of the tub, already reaching for the sponge.
“Turn around for me,” he said gently, dipping it into the water before wringing it out.
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I quickly swiveled in the tub, presenting my back to him. The sponge touched my shoulder blade and I sighed contentedly. Between our bond humming and the warm, sudsy sponge, I felt like I was floating on cloud nine. He moved it in slow, methodical circles, gentle and unhurried, washing away the day as though he could erase everything that had happened to me with nothing more than the careful pass of his hands.
“These past few days, watching the spell rot spread through you. Watching you slip away from me one breath at a time.” The sponge paused between my shoulder blades. “I’ve never felt pain like that in my life.”
My throat thickened as something heavy dropped in my stomach.
“The hardest part was knowing I couldn’t do anything to stop it. That I couldn’t fix it or take the pain away from you. All I could do was sit there and watch you suffer.” The sponge moved again, tracing down my spine. “Pray the witches’ spell would work and that you’d still be here with me when it was over. I don’t know what I would have done if it didn’t.”
I could feel his pain pouring into me through the bond, mixing with my own and making it hard for me to tell where his sorrow ended and where mine began.
