“What do I do?” she asks softly.
“Nothing. Just sit back. I’ll do everything.” I inch closer until I’m almost straddling her thighs. My palms press against the sides of her damp neck. Closing my eyes, I focus my power, directing its flow into my palms. It feels just as unnatural as the last time I did this—siphoning my power from my body. It clings to my bones, and it takes conscious effort to will it to separate from me.
Carefully, ever so carefully, I channel a small amount into Mayah.
Her eyes snap open. I remove my hands.
“That should do it, I think.”
“I can feel it. Your power. It’s inside me. It’s—it’s mingling with my own.”
“Yeah. It’s only temporary, though. In another ten minutes, you should be able to heal yourself.”
“Will I be able to control lightning?”
I chuckle. “No. It’ll only strengthen your natural wielding affinity. Unless you’re secretly hiding stormwielding abilities.”
She snorts. “I’d be the realm’s worst stormwielder. Cowering from a storm I summoned myself.”
My face breaks into a wide grin. Not only at her joke, but at the utter relief of knowingshe’s going to be all right.
We sit in silence, waiting. I trace my fingers along the inside of her arm, checking her pulse occasionally, though it’s just an excuse to keep touching her.
Ten minutes later, she calls to her power.
Thank the Skies,thank the fucking Skies, it responds. The pressure compressing my lungs eases at the sight of her glowing hands. She easily heals her wound, the inflammation fading away and skin knitting back together.
A relieved sigh escapes me, and I let myself lean against her. She angles herself toward me, setting her palms to my neck, channeling her power through me.
“Stop. Conserve your energy.”
She ignores me, flowing her power until my every aching muscle is soothed. When she’s done, she sits back and gives me a bright grin, and Lightning blind me, it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
“How much power did you give me?” she asks, rising and stretching her arms over her head. My relief increases tenfold at the sight of her healthy and mobile.
“Very little. It’s almost like a high at first. It’ll wear off soon and then…”
“We wait for me to try and ravish you?” She gives me a mocking smile.
“…Yes.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Let’s hope.”
We eat dinner quietly. Mayah is ravenous, her body demanding its due after days of barely eating. I’m glad I had the foresight to hunt four rabbits tonight.
Throughout the meal, though, her blue eyes linger longer and longer on me—my mouth, throat, chest. Her cheeks flush prettily when our gazes meet, teeth gnawing at her lower lip before she looks away. Her flush deepens.
It’s starting.
And she’ll only grow worse.
Wordlessly, I clean up the remnants of dinner—every tiny bone is picked clean, and a primal sort of satisfaction rumbles in my chest that she ate well. ThatIfed her well.
An acute awareness crackles down my spine. Wiping my greasy fingers on the grass, I slowly turn. Mayah is staring at me, full lips parted.
Staring is an understatement—she’s undressing me with her eyes.
