Gods above, the bed’s barely big enough for me.
“When will the twins be here? It’s been hours.”
Finally, I look up at him. A deep line sits firmly between his brows.
“Their sister is a telepath. If they don’t come here first, they’ll go home and she’ll reach out to me when they get there. They’re on foot, it’ll take longer. A couple days to get to their sister’s house.”
My arms fold across my chest as I think about how long it’s been already. I can’t stand not knowing where they are.
They’ll be okay. They’re strong. They’ll be here soon enough.
I try my best to cling to those calming thoughts.
“Lie down and let me put this stuff on your leg.” He shakes the bottle Mesa gave him. The amber vial is smaller than his hand.
My eyes drift down to the blood staining his dark jeans. A tattered, circular hole is punctured over his thigh but his stride is as confident as ever. He isn’t stumbling and awkward like I am.
The silver button of my jeans is smooth against my fingertips, and as I push the tight and newly destroyed material down my legs, pain slices through my calf.
I shove my breaths out through clenched teeth. Ryder kneels at my feet. His warm hands take my leg and, slowly, he helps me out of my ruined boots. I sit at the edge of the soft mattress and he gently pulls my jeans the rest of the way off.
My thighs shift from the feel of his hands on my body.
For a few seconds, we both just stare down at the deep gash that’s revealing the white tendons of my lower leg. Fleshy red tissue oozes dark blood. The wound from the iron fence on my thigh is nothing compared to the two long talon slices cutting through my calf.
Mesa said the healing process for nix wounds is painful. I swallow hard as I try to prepare myself.
“Okay, a little worse than I expected,” Ryder says as his warm palm lightly touches my upper thigh, just below my white underwear. “I’m going to get some water and towels.”
He races to the bathroom. A whining, screeching sound comes from the adjoining room as the faucet turns on.
Then he’s rushing back to me, kneeling at my feet with wet rags and the tiny vial of medicine.
“Lie back.”
My stomach turns; the pink liquor I consumed makes itself known again.
“It’ll be okay, just lie back.” His warm palm strokes up the outside of my thigh and I nod a jerky approval before lying down on the mattress.
Soft blankets caress my wings as I lie back uncomfortably on them. My palms rest over my stomach, and I wait with tension in my limbs for Ryder to do whatever it is he’s about to do.
The fiery feeling of droplets raining down on my tattered skin makes me see stars. Fire burns through my body as more and more trickles down onto the wound on my thigh. My jaw tightens but it doesn’t stop the groan from slipping across my lips.
“You’re doing good.” His palm strokes up and down my thigh again. I focus on the shaking rhythm of my breathing; the rising and expanding of my lungs. It’s the only thing that feels like it’s fighting off the stabbing pain that’s trying to overtake my body.
“Okay, one more and we’re done,” he says in a calm, reassuring voice.
Drip, drip, drip. The burning liquid runs down the gashing folds of the gnarled skin of my calf.
A torturous scream bites through my lips, my spine arches and my head tips back onto the mattress as my fingers fist the nicely made quilt.
Seconds pass and still he rains down that fucking medicine on my leg.
“Ryder,” I bark out on a weak breath.
His fingers interlock with mine, his hand holding firmly onto mine. I clench ahold of him tight enough to break his bones but he endures every second of it.
“It’s done. It’s done, Kara.”
