The back door opened again and Týr reappeared. As he shut out the cold behind him, his stare went down her wet jeans and up again. His mouth flattened into a tight line, he shrugged off his ruined jacket, tossing it on the couch before he disappeared upstairs.
Guilt settled in her tummy like a rock. He’d gotten hurt because of her and he’d been forced to bring her here to keep her safe. But Tomas was in so much danger. How could she do nothing?
A heavy sigh escaping her, Kira sat on the stone step in front of the warm flames and wrapped her arms around her knees. She had no idea what to do anymore. The entire night had been a dismal failure. All she and Týr did was fight. Her spirits sank even lower.
He reappeared a few minutes later, expression still stony. “Go. Take a shower and get out of those wet things before you get sick. The water’s hot.”
He didn’t have to ask her twice. She hurried past him up the stairs and stumbled into a sizable bedroom. The massive windowed wall from downstairs continued up. A small wooden closet was built into the opposite wall, and from the adjacent door came the sounds of splattering water.
Frowning, Kira entered, and a swirl of steam engulfed her, making it hard to see inside the gray-tiled bathroom. In this sub-zero temperature, the heater would have taken time to warm up…He’d made the water hot. No matter the friction between them, her heart melted.
Clothes stripped off, teeth clacking like the devil’s army attacking, she dashed under the hot, cascading water.Oh, God. She moaned in relief as her blood finally unfroze and limbs warmed.
Then the pain hit.
“Oww,” she cried out, hastily pivoting to face the falling water and protect her back. She shut her eyes, letting the stinging tears wash away.
Fists pounded on the door. “Kira?”
Nooo, not now.“I’m fine.” She breathed through her pain. “It’s nothing—”
“Then why the hell did you cry out?”
“Bumped my elbow,” the white lie tripped free.
Christ. Kira bit her lip hard, her moan stuck in her throat, her back hurting like hot nails gouging her skin. She hadn’t just hit the wall during the attack, the monstrous thing must have clawed her, too.
“Kira!” More hammering.
“Gimme a few minutes.” Inhaling a trembling breath, she found a bar of soap and a bottle of half-used shampoo and conditioner on a ledge and tried to complete her shower before Týr came barging inside.
* * *
What the hell was taking her so long? Týr stopped pacing to glare at the bathroom door. His cell rang. Jaw clenched, he retrieved it from his pants’ pocket. Hedori.
“Yeah?”
“Kira?” their butler asked, voice heavy with concern. “Jenna’s quite agitated, said something is wrong. Is she okay?”
Dammit. With Dagan’s mate’s mother possessing the sense of foresight, there was no avoiding this. Just as well it wasn’t as invasive as the Celt’s. Hell, the bastard’s premonitions were unsurpassed, considering here he was with Kira. Gut-deep, Týr realized he was hurtling into chaos, and the universe only knew what else, but there was little he could do to stop the fateful fall when the female drew him like the tragic moth.
Exhaling roughly, head lowered, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, she’s fine. A little mishap.” He gave Hedori a quick rundown of what was afoot and then listed what he required, his gaze back on the bathroom door. “And we’ll need food.” Even though Dagan had given him this place, his fellow warrior’s lifestyle of no solids didn’t help them. “Also, would you ensure that the wards on the cabin are still up and good when you get here?”
“I will attend to it, sire.”
“Thanks, man. And quit damn sire-ing me to death!” Týr ended the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket. The silence coming from the bathroom was starting to garrote him. “Kira!” he bellowed, thumping the door with his palm.
It opened, steam billowing around her like a cloud. Kira stood there, a towel wrapped around her body, and another concealing her hair. She eyed him warily.
“What the hell happened in there?” he demanded because her cry had been one of unadulterated agony. She bit her lip. “Answer me, dammit!”
Huffing out a breath, she turned and gave him her back.
Týr stood there, his stomach roiling, and his lungs screaming for air at the sight of the three, six-inch-long lesions scoring her shoulder blade—her flesh torn open. Blood seeped down her back, the towel absorbing the flow. Some part of his brain must have slammed back into gear because his right hand rose, and his palm hovered over her injuries. He let his restorative power flow through him, but the lesions continued to ooze.
C’mon—c’mon!He gnashed down on his molars, pushing harder with his healing powers…nothing. Fuck! This shit wasn’t going to cut it.
He strode into the foggy bathroom, opened the cupboard beneath the basin, and hoped like hell Dagan had some of the Oracle’s healing salve and strengthening potion there. As his fingers snagged on something in the cavernous back…bottles and a container, he heard Kira’s soft footsteps leave the room.
