Olwen pinned Neve with a look. “Reillov, I mean no disrespect, but you’re scaring her.”
He wasn’t doing anything. Olwen was the one touching his wife. He inhaled deeply, catching the acrid scent of her fear. “Get your hands off her! She doesn’t want you touching her.”
“You’re the one snarling and growling,Reillov.”
That pulled him up short. Neve blinked hard, trying to think past the uncivilized, monstrous part of himself that he had tried to lock away. His chest was rumbling. The snarls were coming from him? He tried to calm down but found he could not stopthe deep primal Loriian part of himself. Serenity dropped from the sky, screaming a warning before swooping back up, circling above. He glared at theastrylle, offended that the creature would think he was a danger to his own mate.
“I wouldneverhurt her,” he managed to say.
“I know that, but does she?” Olwen took the sword from Lia’s hands but did not put it down. Instead, he released Neve’s wife and stepped in front of her as if to protect her fromhim. From her husband.
He leaned around his commander to see his wife, hating that there was someone between them. She was hurt. Sick even. She needed him.
“My king,” Olwen said softly, pulling Neve’s attention back to him. “Would you like us to come to your tent?”
“I would like you to step away frommymate,” he snapped back in Loriian.
“Not until I know you’re calm,Reillov.”
He was wrong. Neve was perfectly calm. All he wanted was for thevallosto get out of the way so he could help hisniliavewithout tearing Olwen’s throat out.
Inhaling in a deep breath did nothing but flood his senses with more of Dahlia’s fear and spicy ginger scent. “Move,” he growled.
His commander shook his head. “I will not.”
Traitor. Enemy. Thief,his mind hissed.
White-hot rage flashed through him, and he lunged. He batted away the sword like it was a child’s toy and caught Olwen by the throat. He hefted the bulkyvallosoff the ground and tossed him like he was a ragdoll. He stared as Olwen hit the ground and rolled, popping back onto his feet. A glimmer of white around his eyes. The berserker was coming out to play.
A cold hand touched his chest, and he jerked, his hand reflexively wrapping around the delicate bones. Dahlia stoodbefore him, shivering. He stared down at the woman who inspired so many conflicting emotions. She should have run from him, but instead, Lia tried to calm him.
He savored her touch, eyes closing a moment as he tried to rein in the bond fever. Too many eyes were on them. He needed a safe place with her. Privacy. Needed to get her away from all the warriors. When he opened his eyes, he locked onto her own. They were empty, almost desolate. It was enough to crack through the rage.
Something was very wrong with his human.
She needed safety and warmth. He scooped her into his arms and took off running.
Serenity screeched but did not attack him. He glanced at the sky. Theastrylleperched on the tallest tent pole of his home as if she knew her mistress would be staying there.
They burst into his tent in no time. He panted and made it to his bed. Before it had seemed so cozy and inviting, but now it did not seem good enough to lay hisniliavedown on. He set her down on the edge and stepped away, his muscles rippling as he kept himself from pouncing on her.
Think through the fever. What does she need?
“Neve,” Lia said softly.
He held out his palm, his hand shaking, and pointed a finger at her. “Do not speak,” he hissed.
While the bond urged him to take care of his mate, the rage and betrayal still simmered beneath the surface. He could not stand listening to her voice. It inspired too many memories. Like when she’d tried to kill him. Her presence was tearing him asunder.
Neve half stumbled to his washing basin and dipped a clean cloth into the water. He rushed back to her side and knelt before the bed, and began cleaning the blood from her chest. The rag came away brownish red and blue. His molars ground together.She had hidden from him. She had left him. Had made him suffer.
He paused, dropping his head, and took deep breaths, letting her scent soothe him.
Focus on helping her.
Despite all the negative emotions she brought to the surface, he had a visceral need to care for her that Neve could not deny. “Lie back,” he demanded, his voice gravelly and dark, even to his own ears.
She eyed him and then slowly complied, her empty gaze never leaving him. It pleased part of him that she did not cry or run, just accepted his help. He gritted his teeth as he cleaned the wound on her neck. It was an ugly ragged bite.
