Page 53 of Dark Rival

He stood by the table, draining the jug of wine.

Ceit and Peigi looked ready to faint.

“There’ll be no more trouble this night,” he told them harshly. “Bring linen, water. Good night.”

Ceit didn’t hesitate. She and Peigi fled.

Allie walked slowly toward Royce, now standing in a puddle of his own blood. That blinding pain went through her again.

Royce looked at her—and then tore his blood-soaked tunic from his body, flinging it to the floor. Allie bit her lip at the sight of his body—muscular, scarred and shockingly, fully aroused. He gave her a heated look.

He was still in the throes of bloodlust, she thought uneasily.

“Come here,” he said. And it was the kind of order he’d give to one of his men.

She had to heal him but she hesitated. Even badly wounded, he was a magnificent sight. And she felt his lust—not around her—in her. It seethed and begged for release.

She was almost afraid of him. But her body was humming and vibrating with an intensity of its own. Her gut was hollow, aching. “You’re bleeding to death.”

He sent her another heavy, hot look. “So heal it.” Then, he spoke in a murmur. “Come an’ heal me, Ailios.”

She trembled and poured her white light over him, into him.

His eyes widened, as if he hadn’t expected it.

But then, had a Healer ever healed him before? She knew her power was warm and that it felt good. She knew the moment he received her white power, his pain would begin to diminish.

He stared at her in surprise, but his gaze remained intently male and predatory. Allie felt the sharp pain going through him, through her, but it wasn’t blinding now.

She poured more light over him, into him, focusing on his shoulder and the deep wound. He grunted. The sound was one of release.

Then he gave her another long look. His gaze was coherent now.

Confident that he was not about to leap on her in a very bestial manner, she walked up to him and laid her hands on the wound, ignoring the blood. More healing power flowed from her hands, surging now because of their proximity.

His gaze held hers, watchful and intent. “It feels good,” he said roughly.

She smiled but didn’t speak. She could not focus while having a conversation. She threw more healing power directly into the wound this time. She became aware of his bulging bicep, just above her eye level, and his bloodstained chest.

He grunted again as more pain was released. He sat down.

Allie was so short it was easier to stand with her hand on his shoulders while he sat. The bleeding had stopped. She felt the flesh inside the wound binding and renewing itself. His pain had dulled to a mere ache. She smiled, pleased, and then her heart lurched.

She had almost been the cause of Royce’s death—again.

“I’m fine,” Royce said thickly.

Allie saw that he was even more fiercely aroused than before. But of course he was. That shocking, savage, murderous frenzy was gone. The barbarian was gone. But she’d stopped the bleeding, meaning his blood supply was going somewhere else. His gaze was on hers, oddly uncertain and searching.

Her heart turned over, hard. “Don’t move,” she said softly. “Let me finish.”

He just sat there, staring at her face.

Allie went to the door and stepped into the hall, hoping to find Ceit for the linens and water. She’d set a basin of water and clean linens next to the door. Allie gathered up the items and returned to the hall.

Her steps slowed. Royce sat naked on the bench, fully aroused, looking exactly like what he was: a supernaturally virile, superpowerful holy warrior with a godly ancestry. He turned and stared at her. His gaze sizzled.

She came forward, her entire body flaming. Was he inviting her to bed, finally? Or was this still about the battle from hell? She cleaned the blood from his shoulder with the wet linen, pleased to see an angry red scar there. By the morning it would be pink, and in another day or so, white.