Faster than a striking serpent, he grasped her wrist, and she toppled forward to her knees.
His eyes flickered open, unfocused and dark with pain. Strands of his inky dark hair had escaped their tether and stuck to his sweat-drenched face. His hold on her wrist seared her skin.Vae.She sucked in a harsh breath. Being demon, she knew they usually ran hotter than normal, but Nate felt like he was incinerating from the inside.
“I have to clean out what you used for this salve to work.” She pointed to the package.
“I don’t need help. You hav’ta leave.”
Of course. Males like him, all caveman strong, needing no one, hated being helpless, and worse, accepting help. “Unless you plan on physically stopping me, I’m going to help you.”
“You’re stubborn,laika,” he said with a long-drawn sigh. His shoulders sagged, and his grip loosened but remained around her wrist, his thumb slowly caressing her skin.
Ely bit her lip, his touch causing her barely banked desire to spike, amping her problem.
Swallowing, she freed her hand, dropped his shirt, and removed the potion from the brown paper bag. She unscrewed the cap, aware of his burning gaze tracking her every move. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
A rough grunt escaped him. “Here’s your chance to finally take me out—”
Ely put the bottle to his lips and tipped the dark contents into his mouth, not wanting to hear that.
“Shit—” He grasped her wrist with his feverish fingers. “That tastes damn rank, worse than the last one!”
“Perhaps. But you have to take more. It’s the only thing potent enough to destroy the demon virus inside you.”
Rough laughter. “Wasted on me,laika.”
All right, stupid explanation considering what he was. “Maybe. But just so you know, that wound…” She nodded to his chest. “Can act as a tracking signal for whoever hurt you, making it easy to find you again.”
His mouth tightened, but he took another gulp before pushing the bottle away.
“Lie down so I can tend to the wound.”
“No.” He shut his eyes.
Okay, then. She capped the potion, set it down, and picked up the ruined shirt again.
Gently, not to add more to his pain, she carefully cleaned off the bloodied salve he’d used. And the mess of his chest was revealed—
Heavens!Her stomach heaved. She could see a part of his breastbone. Her throat tightened. The agony he must be in, and yet not a sound of pain escaped him.
Working quickly, she dabbed away the oozing fresh blood, then scooped the unguent from the container and liberally pasted the stuff over the gaping fist-sized lesion. Finally, she taped a large dressing over it. Once done, she placed her palms over the wound, letting her healing abilities flow through, to aid him faster.
A little drained from using that gift, she lowered her hands. While she’d never experienced a direct hit from a demon bolt, she’d learned from the guys that it hurt like hell and weakened you, too. It was probably why Nate let her do what she wanted. At full strength, he was as immovable as a wall.
She applied more salve to the woundshe’dcaused on his abs and attached a gauze over it, too. At the bloody smears on his chest and abs, she pushed to her feet and pivoted for the gate.
Ugh, locked.
She dematerialized, shooting out of the cell.
* * *
Aware she’d left, Nate cracked his eyes open, staring at nothing. What the fuck was there to look at in this tomb but more darkness?
The emptiness at her departure wrenched at him and the vacuum within deepened. The urge to call Ely back took hold, but he clenched his teeth so he wouldn’t succumb to temptation. It was safer for her.
His gaze lowered to his bloodied chest with its fresh dressing. Her caring for him, despite the immense threat he was to her in this current state, squeezed his heart. No one ever did that except for his sire. He wanted her with a need that gutted him—
Nooo wantssss!The wyvern’s snarl ricocheted through his skull like screams of glass shattering. Nate grunted, desperately clinging to his sanity and control. Agony bled through to the marrow of his bones, and the pressure to stretch and shift took hold, hurting worse than the chest wound, flaying his mind like scorching blades.
