The vine went limp.
She gasped as the pressure released, and he gently unwound the golden tendril from her hand. Her palm was a mess of shallow cuts, blood seeping steadily from half a dozen wounds.
“Give me your hand.”
She offered it without argument, her trust in him so immediate and absolute it made something in his chest ache. He raised her hand to his mouth, and she froze. “What are you?—”
“Vultor saliva has healing properties.” The words came out rough, almost a growl. “It will stop the bleeding and prevent infection.”
“Oh.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I… okay.”
He licked the wounds, tasting her blood on his tongue—sweet and rich and utterly intoxicating. His beast howled with satisfaction, a possessiveness so fierce it frightened him. He forced himself to be gentle, to focus on healing rather than the primal urges clawing at his control.
When he finally released her hand, the cuts had already begun to close.
“Thank you,” she breathed, staring at her palm in wonder. “That’s… incredible.”
“It’s nothing.” He stepped back, putting distance between them. His heart was pounding, his claws still extended, and he could feel his eyes glowing.
Control yourself,he thought savagely.She is not mine. She will never be mine.
“It’s not nothing.” Her free hand came up to rest on his arm, a light, hesitant touch that sent warmth spreading through him despite the cool mountain air. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes wide and searching, and for one terrifying moment, he thought she could see right through him.
Then she smiled and said, “So. How do I harvest these things without losing my hand?”
CHAPTER 5
“How much do you need?” Tarek asked, but Jessa was staring at her palm again, marveling at the way the cuts had sealed themselves. The skin remained pink and tender, but the bleeding had stopped entirely. She could feel a faint tingling where his tongue had touched her flesh, a warmth that refused to fade.
Focus,she told herself sharply.He asked me a question.
“Enough for a small piece of cloth,” she said, pulling her attention back to the sunvines draped across the rocks like ribbons of captured light. “A large square, or perhaps a rectangle, like a scarf.”
He frowned at her. “That’s not much.”
“It’s enough.” She hoped her voice didn’t betray the anxiety coiling in her stomach. A foot square wouldn’t satisfy Gerhard’s grand ambitions. He’d been boasting to that merchant about bolts of the stuff, promising a supply that could make their village famous across the territories. But a small sample—something to prove the cloth was real, that it could be made—should buy her time to figure out another solution.
Or at least time to run.
“Very well.” He moved towards the sunvines with the caution of someone who knew exactly how dangerous they could be. “Stay back.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. Her palm still throbbed with the memory of those golden tendrils tightening around her hand. She watched as Tarek extended his claws, wickedly curved and gleaming like polished obsidian, and severed the vines with quick, efficient strokes. He collected the lengths from several different plants, trimming rather than harvesting.
The cut portions fell limp immediately, losing that strange luminescence that had made them seem almost alive. Without their glow, they looked more like ordinary plant matter, golden-brown and unremarkable.
He gathered the severed vines and brought them to her, depositing them in her outstretched hands. The fibers were softer than she’d expected, almost silky, and she found herself running her fingers along their length automatically, the way she always did when examining new materials.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
He grunted in acknowledgment and turned to examine the sky. The sun had fully disappeared behind the western peaks, leaving only a faint orange glow on the horizon. Stars were beginning to prick through the deepening blue overhead, and the temperature was dropping rapidly.
“We can’t return tonight,” he said. “The path is too dangerous in darkness. I could manage it if I had to, but you can’t.”
Her heart sank. She’d known it was a possibility, but she’d been hoping they might try anyway. Every hour she spent away from Dani was an hour her sister was alone and vulnerable.
She’ll be fine,she told herself firmly.Miss Mavis will take good care of her. It’s only one night.
But the worry gnawed at her anyway, a constant ache beneath her ribs that never quite went away.
