“I’m fine,” he grunted.
But she shot to her knees and lifted up his tunic with quick hands. What she saw horrified her. Bruises were darkening in sick shades of red and purple across his torso, deep slices between them, and his ribs were uneven. He’d tied a makeshift bandage around his middle but it was drenched with blood. She watched the rise and fall of his chest – shallow and dangerously irregular.
“Sebastian!” she gasped.
He moved to shove the material back down but she forced his hands away, pulling his tunic off, exposing his bare chest.
“Stop that,” she snapped. “I need to see–”
Her hands flared emerald, her magic finally obeying her.
“Kara–” he objected.
She wouldn’t do it without his permission. Not again.
“Please,” she begged him. “Please let me heal you.”
He looked as if the plea hurt worse than the wounds, indecision written across his face.
“I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you... it’s the least I can do,” she said.
He flinched at her words, but nodded faintly, though guilt flashed on his face. She pushed her magic out, praying silently.
Heal him, all of him.
He grimaced in pain as the first wave of emerald hit him. As her magic pushed deeper, hunting for the damage, her breath stopped.
Something was very wrong. Dark pressure was building. Blood pooling in places blood should never be. Against his ribs. Around his lung, slowly suffocating him from the inside.
“Sebastian.” Her voice came out strangled. “You have internal bleeding.”
His brows lifted. “Ah. That explains it.”
“Explains–” Her hands shook against his skin. “You’re bleeding into your chest. Your lung it’s – you could have–” She broke off, horrified. “How long have you been like this?”
He shrugged. “A few hours? Since the fight, probably.”
“A few hours?!” She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to hit him, heal him, and scream at him all at once. “You could have died!”
His hand came up to cup her face, and there was a tremor in his fingers. “But I didn’t. I’m right here.”
“You stupid, reckless–” A sob caught in her throat.
“For what it’s worth, blood is supposed to stay inside the body.”
She gaped at him. “Don’t you dare joke about this – that is not funny.”
He gave her a crooked, pained smile. “No? Felt funny,” he said weakly.
“Gods,” she whispered, both furious and terrified. She forced her magic in further still, felt the internal wounds slowly bend to her will. She watched with intense relief as his skin turned back to its normal colour, felt the ribs knit themselves back together, and the slices disappear like they’d never been there. And all the while, she could feel how long he’d been enduring it. The pain. She felt it echo under her own ribs. There had been so much of it. How had he not made a sound? How had he held her, strong and unwavering, when this was tearing him apart?
He’s been like this all day... and just let me sleep?
She finally felt the last of his pain recede and her magic sang in her veins as it washed over him – as if healing Sebastian Thorne was its calling. He closed his eyes and took one long, deep breath. His first in hours, she guessed. Kara called her emerald back, watching it retreat into her hands. Its work done. The one thing she hadn’t touched, deliberately this time, was the scar beneath his eye. That one stayed. He sat up slowly so that they were face to face – then swayed, catching himself shakily with one hand on the wall. She reached out instantly to steady him.
“Sebastian–”
“I’m fine,” he muttered. “Just... dizzy.”
