He pulled down his shirt. “Nothing will happen to me,” he panted. “I just need a little time. I will heal.”
Gah. Stupid macho male pride! “Really? Guess you must have a blessed life then.”
“Leya, I’m immortal, I’ll be fine.”
Her jaw nearly hit the icy ground. “What?”
He grimaced as he shifted, his hands clenching. “It means I cannot die. Does it hurt? Fuck yeah, it does, until my healing ability takes over.”
Stunned, Leya sat back on her heels, staring at his handsome, bruised face. Now it all made sense. The way he moved, his powers, opening portals.
“How old are you?” It wasn’t what she meant to ask, but she might as well satisfythatcuriosity.
“Much older than you,” he shot back, his brows pinching together.
She snorted. “I’m twenty-four.”
He smiled. It was like the sun surfacing in this deathly cold place, so devastating her heart flipped and didn’t feel the same as it resettled.
“If it’s that important to you…” A weary exhale, and he shut his eyes. “I’m thousands of years old.”
She blinked, unable to fathom an age so vast. Sometimes, she felt like she’d lived a century. But in her case, it was from the responsibilities she shouldered.
A stifled grunt escaped him. His lips thinned, pain lines bracketing his mouth. The veins on his neck popped, revealing his strained control.
Damn, she needed something to staunch the blood flow on his side. With his shirt already soaked and nothing else around, except for the teeshewore—
Ugh, she couldn’t use that, then she’d freeze in the freakin’ subzero cave.
He gave you his jacket, even though he’s wounded.
Maaaan. Guilt stirring, she quickly removed the jacket. The freezing air enclosed her, and she shuddered as she dragged off her tee. Wearing only her sports bra, she moved closer, and his wonderful heat surrounded her, taking away the chill. Grateful for the small mercy, she gently pressed her shirt against the gaping wound on his side.
“What are you doing?” he rasped, and her head snapped up.
His eyelids flickered open to half-mast, revealing slivers of feverish, molten silver shielded by darker lashes. His gaze slid down to her bra.
Heck, she didn’t want to move back into the iciness and leave his circle of heat. But move she did, and shivered, goosebumps racing over her skin once more. “You’re hurt. I needed something to stop the flow. I don’t care if you’re immortal! Losing so much blood isn’t good.”
His searing stare rose back to her face, pausing briefly on her lips.
Oh, because he thought her mouth spewed excuses so she could touch him?
Irritation surged. “Don’t you know? I like my men when they’re incapacitated and flat on their back, then I can have my wicked way with them.”
He blinked, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a sly smile. “So, you want me, then?”
Naturally, he would pick on that and ignore her sarcasm.
Still…Want him?
No fool in her right mind wouldn’t.
Coolly, like she wasn’t seriously contemplating kissing the crap out of those sensual lips, with her damn libido on an all-time crazy dance, Leya retrieved his fallen dagger. “Don’t worry, you’re safe. I’m not going to pounce on you in that condition or in any other way. I prefermyguys wild with desire when they see me.”
“Wild?”
“Absolutely.”
