Silently, painfully aware that he was still watching her every move, she finished knitting his wounds together and stepped back, taking her first real breath since she had begun. She didn’t know if that was because of nerves or how close Cillian was, despite his injuries. She hadn’t been able to fully ignore his stares boring into her, or the way his muscles felt beneath her skin.
“All finished,” she said, then coughed. “You should get some sleep.”
He nodded, grimacing as he pushed himself off the couch and made his way up the stairs. Her muscles didn’t fully uncoil until he was out of sight, and even then, her heart continued to pound, threatening to break out of her chest. She just wished she knew why.
***
The next morning, she stood in the kitchen, hovering over the stove, listening to the hiss of bacon and the sizzle of eggs as their savory smells filled the kitchen. Her stomach growled.
She hadn’t slept much the night before. When she woke up early this morning, she had decided to cook a large breakfast for Cillian, for whenever he woke up. It helped keep her thoughts off the night before and how her mind seemed to keep spinning whenever he was nearby. It distracted her from the questions running through her head about why she was so panicked when he had come home injured. She was still angry with him, but at some point, things had shifted. Her anger had mutated, and that worried and confused her.
As she tried to shove these thoughts away, Cillian walked into the kitchen. He had more color than he did the night before, though the bandages now caked in blood added a gruesome aspect to his appearance.
“Hey,” he said. He sniffed. “That smells incredible.”
“How are you feeling?” she asked, turning off the stove. She walked over and began examining the bandages, looking for signs of more bleeding.
“Like I got thrown into a meat grinder,” he said, wincing as he rolled his shoulder. “Been a while since I took that kind of beating.”
She didn’t answer right away. Her hands slid up and down, tracing the bandages, checking to see if they needed any more cleaning. She glanced up at his face, and her heart thundered in her chest at the intense way he stared at her, as if she was the only thing he cared about, that being clawed to ribbons was a small price to pay for her.
She glanced away, turning to study the white gauze wrapped around his arm. Eventually, once she was certain that he was all right, that he wasn’t going to fall over dead at any minute and that his bandages didn’t need changing, she came to stand in front of him. She looked up at him and realized he had been watching her the entire time. Their eyes met. Time seemed to stand still.
Her lips pursed, and she glared at him. A moment later, she swatted him lightly, still glowering up at him.
“Ow!” He rubbed his arm, blinking down at her in bemusement. “What did I do?”
“Do you really have to ask?”
He rubbed his arm where she had made contact and raised an eyebrow. “Does it have to do with the fact that I ran off to go after a dangerous criminal on my own with absolutely no backup? And then, when it went horribly wrong, I came limping to you, asking you to stitch me up instead of going to a hospital?”
Her lip twitched upward even as she tried to maintain a stern expression. “That definitely has something to do with it.”
His smirk subsided. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you last night.”
“You should be,” she said, more anger in her words than she had expected. “You gave me a heart attack. Do you realize how terrified I was?”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
Her heart had started pounding again, and she twisted around so he couldn’t see her expression, the conflict roaring through her. She shouldn’t be feeling this strong a reaction to him. After a moment of composing herself, feeling Cillian’s eyes on her as she willed the heat to leave her cheeks, she turned back.
She studied him, tilting her head and searching for a sign that he might remember what he had said the night before.
“Everything all right?” he asked. “You’re staring at me like I’ve grown an extra head or something.”
“Do you remember much about our conversation last night?”
His brow furrowed, and she knew the answer before he opened his mouth. “No. I’m sorry. Once the drugs kicked in, it’s all fuzzy.” He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t make an idiot of myself, did I?”
“No,” she said quickly, telling herself that the sinking sensation in her stomach wasn’t disappointment but exhaustion. She turned and walked over to the coffee machine. “No, nothing like that.”
It shouldn’t bother her, she told herself. He’d been delirious. She couldn’t take any of what he’d said at face value. But she still felt the sting.
“Anyway. I’ve got to go to the nursery.” She hesitated. “Unless you want me to stick around?”
The offer slipped out of her mouth before she realized it. She blinked, surprised, and heat spread across her face. She blinked and looked down at her shoes, suddenly unable to glance back up at him. Heat spread across her cheeks, and she tried not to wonder why.
“Nah,” Cillian said, and she glanced back up. He rolled his shoulder and grimaced. “Hurts like hell, but shifters heal fast. I just need to take it easy this morning, and then I’ll go talk to Camden and the others.”
