“I’m supposed to be healing you,” she said, the tears she was holding back thick in her voice.
“Let me comfort you first.”
She shook her head, her mouth brushing against his bare skin. “Castanegas are tough. We don’t cry.”
“I’ve already seen you cry, Vee. I don’t think any less of you for it. You lost your brother. You were almost killed.” Twice. “I’ll never tell.”
A cry gasped out of her, one last attempt to hold it back failing. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because no one comforted me when my father died.” They looked at him askance or whispered. Some gave him a sympathetic look while others acted as if he had the plague. “And I didn’t cry either. Because Vegas are tough. We don’t cry.”
She laughed, mixed with a sob, and lifted her face to his. Her eyes were glossy with tears. “Then you can cry, too.”
He shook his head. “I don’t need to cry.” He brushed a tear from her cheek.
“What do you need, Kade?”
He let his thumb linger against her cheek. You. In my arms, my life. Thank the gods he pulled the words back before they rolled out. “Right now, nothing.”
She buried her face again and cried, but nothing like she’d done earlier when her sobs had ripped out his heart. Her hand lay on his stomach, fingers flexing, nails scraping softly against his skin.
Something he’d never felt before opened inside him, an overwhelming need to protect her, take care of her. Give her warm comfort, hot love…everything.
He would have killed her. The obedient killing machine he was the day before would have come here, killed her when she was grieving, and then left. He would have gotten a “well done” at work and gone on to the next assignment. And this beautiful, caring woman would be dead.
She sat up. “I’m hurting you, aren’t I? I can hear your breathing coming in short puffs.”
The release of pressure was as painful as when she’d first leaned against him. “It’s okay,” he said, though his voice gave away his pain. “It’s just a broken rib or two.”
“Kade! Why didn’t you say something? Men! It’s fine,” she mimicked. “I’m just wonderful, but don’t mind my gasps of pain while I try to hide it.” With a growl, she stood and swiped at her tears. “Close your eyes.”
He did, and heard the swish of her clothing hit the floor. The Catalyzation process was silent, but her heavy footfalls weren’t. He opened his eyes, looking into her face. The lines of her head were like a fine horse, regal and elegant; her scales glistened in the dim light. Her wings, black with amethyst highlights, were tucked against her back. Her eyes were cat-like, as were her graceful movements when she planted her hands on the edge of the couch and leaned down.
“I’m going to send my Breath into you,” she said, her voice low and gravelly. “It’s the opposite of when a Dragon Breathes another’s power. Instead of taking your essence, I’m sending my essence into you. It’ll feel hot, and maybe weird, but it shouldn’t hurt. I don’t know if it’ll work, but it’s worth trying.”
He was staring at her, unable to do more than nod.
“Don’t worry, it won’t bond us like it does Dragon to Dragon. At least I don’t think so.”
Hell, he was already bonded to her in a way he couldn’t understand. “I didn’t know you could bond that way.”
“It’s not a romantic bond, but the healed Dragon will carry the healer’s essence inside them for a while. Close your eyes. Open to me and relax.”
Open to her.
He did, and felt the heat of her breath as she neared him. Her lips were softer than he imagined, though he felt the graze of her fangs. He opened his mouth, and her Breath flowed into him. Not down his throat, but into him. Her magick rushed like water pooling around each injury. He inhaled sharply at the sensation, breathing in the scent of her: like incense, musky and sweet all at once.
He heard her back away, and the magick continued to work its way through him until the heat subsided. When he finally opened his eyes, he found her human again in her silky pajamas. She sat back, her hands on her thighs, watching him.
“It worked?” she asked, looking hopeful.
He patted his ribs, feeling nothing but a slight bruise. “Yeah. Amazing. We have healing Deuces on the Guard staff. This felt different.” Because Violet cared. Being treated by someone who cared…the feeling of it tumbled through him. More sensual, definitely hotter. He sat up. “Thank you.”
“It’s the least I could do, after all you’ve done for me.”
For a moment he thought she knew everything, and she was all right with the fact that he’d once been about to kill her. But no, she’d never be all right with that.
Their gazes lingered, and he felt that flash that had hit him at the station. She abruptly stood, running her hands down her pajamas as though to smooth them. “I should get to bed. Let you sleep and continue healing.”
