Dread slithered across my skin as the moment he’d warned us about had arrived.
“Wake him up!” I screamed to Sorrel, who rushed forward and began to smack his face lightly, as Ariyon had instructed. I chewed on my bottom lip, feeling the edges of my mind begin to unravel into full-blown panic. Rushing forward, I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the steel pitcher of drinking water we kept on the table. Sprinting to Ariyon in five easy strides, I called for Sorrel to step back and then bent on my knees, upending the entire pitcher over Ariyon’s face and neck.
The young healer’s eyes snapped open, and he reached out and grasped my bare, gloveless hand, squeezing hard.
“No!” Sorrel shouted, trying to stop the inevitable.
I’d made a grave error in not putting on my gloves, but it was too late to take it back. I braced myself for the pain, clenching my teeth so that I wouldn’t bite my tongue when the agony hit. Last time I passed out because it was so bad, and with this much skin to skin, I was going to this time for sure.
My eyes, which I’d snapped shut in expectation of electrifying pain and loss of consciousness, sprang open.
It didn’t hurt.
I didn’t hurt.
His warm skin was still pressed on mine, and it felt…good. Was this what normal felt like? To be touched by someone? There was soft pressure on my wrist but no electrifying torture.
I wasn’t emotionally prepared for this moment. Tears built in my eyes, and my gaze flicked down to see Ariyon looking up at me.
Sorrel gasped and then Ariyon released my hand, sitting up and taking hold of my father’s shoulders.
“He’s mine!” Ariyon screamed to the room and closed his eyes once more, as if going back into battle.
I couldn’t move, didn’t breathe. I blinked rapidly to dislodge the tears blurring my vision, and suddenly Sorrel was there. She looked like she’d seen a ghost, face pale and eyes wide with shock.
“He…was…you…touched,” she mumbled, looking at my bare hand in astonishment.
I lifted my hand up to look at my fingers, which still had traces of warmth from his recent touch.
He touched me and it didn’t hurt. A guy with bare skin touched my bare skin and it didn’t hurt.
My mind exploded into a plethora of thoughts then. Was it just him? Was it because he was a healer? Could I be touched byanyhealer? Was it only because he was literally in the middle of the healing, with the activated healer marks on his hands or whatever those were? Could we only touch hands? Could we kiss? Something more?
A blush rushed up my neck and I felt my cheeks heat. I looked at Sorrel and shook my head. “Maybe because he’s a healer?”
Sorrel nodded and then burst into sobs. “Oh, Fallon. I want to hug you. You’re not going to die with your purity.”
Laughter bubbled from my throat at her insane comment, but I knew what she meant. A relationship, marriage, children—none of it was in the cards for me before today.
Until now.
This. Changed. Everything.
But it wasn’t the time to reflect on any of that with my father lying on death’s door. A growl ripped from Ariyon’s throat and my father began to convulse. His head and legs jerked like a fish out of water, and I gasped. Rushing to the kitchen, I slipped on my gloves and then went back to my father, taking his head in my hands to keep it from bashing backward.
Sorrel positioned herself behind Ariyon because he, too, was convulsing, and a large gash appeared on the side of his cheek, as if he were cut by an unseen blade.
“Mine,” Ariyon growled again, eyes still closed. Then, all at once, my father gasped, sitting up so quickly we almost cracked foreheads. Ariyon was thrown backward into Sorrel, who caught him and eased him to the floor.
“Fafa!” I cried, the nickname rolling off my tongue. When I was little, I couldn’t quite pronouncefatheryet. SoFafabecame his name for a good four years.
My father’s eyes were wide as he peered at Ariyon on the floor in front of him and then over at me.
“What…happened?” he asked breathlessly.
Right. From his perspective, he’d passed out earlier today.
“I went to The Gilded City and—”
