A muscle twitched in his jaw.You’re feeling protective? You’re the one who injured her. You were careless. Violent. Youhurther.
His dragon hissed smoke. Yes, it had been careless—because it knew she was a shifter and assumed she would heal quickly. The cuts in her side should have closed over in minutes; by now, they should have been completely healed, as though she’d never been hurt.
Instead, the cuts had stopped bleeding, but that was all. Ice formed in Julian’s stomach. He’d seen this happen before. Harper had made his captives fight until they were exhausted soul-deep, unable to heal, barely able to communicate telepathically. He had broken them, day by day, piece by piece.
And someone had done the same thing to this ice-sharp, beautiful woman.
No wonder her scent was so confused, the animal side of her muffled and weak. It must be in a desperate condition, barely holding on.
Perhaps that was why she wasn’t acknowledging the bond? She was too far from her inner animal to feel it? But then why—
Francine trembled as he taped gauze over the last claw-mark. “Are you done?”
Her voice betrayed the pain she hadn’t allowed herself to express as he dressed her wounds. Julian smoothed the last strip of medical tape over her hip and knelt back. “Done.”
She turned to face him, and Julian stood up, slowly. He kept his eyes on hers. Shifters, he’d come to learn since leaving home, were not usually shy about being unclothed around others, but there was a strange challenge in Francine’s gaze.
Not love. Not hopeless desire, hot and melting and overwhelming. But something, at least.
“I won’t ask you what happened to you,” he said softly, even as his dragon raged to know who had hurt her. “Just promise me you’ll tell me anything I can do to help you.” Her chin went up, and Julian added quickly, “I don’t want anyone to be hurt because of me. Not again.”
Her shoulders slumped, and she dropped her gaze. When she raised her head again, there was a gold light in the depths of her eyes, like the sun gleaming through old, dark ice.
“I thought I was meant to be the one saving you,” she muttered, her voice like warm water lapping at his skin. “I…” She shook herself and stepped past Julian with catlike grace. “Where’s the wardrobe? I need a new shirt.”
He watched her stalk over to a cabinet in the side of the cabin and rifle through it, selecting a soft sweater and pulling it on in one smooth movement. If Julian hadn’t seen the cuts in her sides, and the careful stiffness of how she was moving earlier, he never would have guessed she was hurt.
Either she was very good at acting—or her shifter healing was finally activating. Something inside Julian unwound. Whatever, whoever had hurt her, it hadn’t pushed her over the edge. She could still recover.
The thought made his dragon bristle with anticipation.
Francine folded herself into a window seat on the far side of the plane. She sat staring so intently out the window that Julian couldn’t help but feel the prickle of her attention. She wasn’t looking at him, but all her other senses were trained on him.
His years under Harper’s thumb had conditioned him to repress any signs of interest in another person, in case Harper chose to use them to harm one of the other prisoners. But that wasn’t the reason Julian couldn’t let himself give in to his dragon’s urges to throw everything else aside to treat his mate as she deserved.
He couldn’t even risk telling her the truth about his family. That they were dead, and what awaited them in Antarctica was far worse than anything out here in the world.
In the last few hours, he’d been shot at and escaped an explosion by the skin of his teeth. Now, after months of gray nothingness, he had a purpose. Return home. Prevent whoever was after the fortress from what must be their true purpose: gaining access to the Soul-Eater and unleashing him upon the world again.
And Francine would help him fulfill that purpose. Even if she didn’t know it. Which meant he was treating her as a tool, not as his mate.
His family wasn’t alive. He wasn’t fool enough to believe that, though he could see the desperate hope that filledFrancine’s eyes every time she mentioned them. As though by saving them, she could save something within herself.
He couldn’t tell her the truth.
He touched the empty chain around his neck. Adria and her mate were gone. He was alive because of this woman … and if she couldn’t save herself, he would.
He could have sat anywhere in the plane. Rested, conserved his energy for the mission ahead. Given his dragon the peace and calm it required to heal.
Instead, he took the seat opposite Francine.
Francine breathed deeply as he sat down. “We’ll have a few hours in Ushuaia before the ship departs. Once we’re on board … it’s possible some of the other buyers have the same idea. Traveling by sea, or air, or both. We’ll need to be careful.”
So we’re talking business.Julian sat a little straighter. “I thought you said we were getting there early, before the other groups?”
“We shouldn’t rule out the possibility I’m not the only one to consider arriving early.” Francine’s hands formed fists on the seat arms, and she stretched them out deliberately. A shiver raced across Julian’s skin as her fingernails dug into the plush fabric.
He cleared his throat. “A sensible precaution.”
