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“Aysia, you silly lovesick darling,” I murmured to myself, missing her. Some days, it felt like an open wound, one that would never heal.
“Do you often talk to yourself, little witch?” came his voice, tired and rumbled. “Or is that the madness of the Black Veil manifesting in you?”
A little embarrassed he’d caught me, I turned slowly and said, “You should be in bed still.”
The left corner of his full mouth twitched up. “You’re not the first female to say that to me.”
He looked to be in a sorry state. Hunched over, skin shimmering with sweat, damp hair sticking to his, admittedly, impressively well-defined chest. Hewasa Kylorr, after all.
Leaning heavily against the doorframe of my bedroom, Lorik ran his gaze over me. His eyes settled on the bandage over my wrist, and I felt his eyes burn there like a brand. The bite throbbed, the mortifying memory of temporary insanity rising.
My face felt hot. My legs felt like they were suddenly made of stone.
He’d fed from me greedily. Roughly, even. As if he couldn’t get enough of my blood. And in return, I’d nearly come apart at my seams, moaning out my disbelief, before I couldn’t takeit anymore. I’d ripped myself away, tearing the skin, making myself bleed even more.
“You didn’t let me heal you last night,” Lorik said. I felt the richness of his voice thread and weave into my body. “I don’t remember what came afterward. But I do remember that.”
He made the room feel entirely too small, even though he kept a respectable distance and he looked like a wind gust could blow him over.
There was a strain in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. I wondered what the nightmares had been.
“I’m serious, Lorik,” I said quietly. “You need to be resting.”
The mysterious male stared at me across the room, neither of us making a move.
“Why did you save me?”
My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“You woke in the middle of the night, ventured out into the Black Veil, and risked your safety to help me. Why?” Lorik asked. “For all you know, I could be a danger to you too.”
Heart picking up speed, I asked, “Are you? A danger to me?”
Lorik didn’t reply, only lowered his sharp chin slightly. Was that an affirmative? Or because his head was growing heavy from weariness?
Much to my dismay, Lorik didn’t return to bed. He shuffled over to the chair at the table he’d been sitting in the night before, freshly cleaned of his blood though I could still smell it in the air.
“Why?” I repeated. “Because I’m a healer. It’s my duty. The oath I took under Allavari law.”
“And bound in their magic?” he wondered.
I inclined my head. “Yes.”
“Ah, so you see,” he said softly, whistling. “If you didn’t help me, knowing I needed it, you would be punished. You would feel pain if you yourself did not try to assuage it for another. Would you consider yourself a selfish person, little witch?”
I blinked, my spine straightening. Irritation rose in my chest, but I kept my face smooth. “No.”
“Liar,” he said, smiling though it looked more like a grimace on his face with the amount of discomfort he must’ve been in. “I think we’re all selfish. It’s in every being’s nature, in all the Four Quadrants, to look out for themselves and only themselves.”
“And what about family? The ones you love?” I pondered, thinking of Aysia,knowingLorik was wrong. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t do anything in your power, even in the face of death, to help them?”
Lorik’s lips lifted and he dropped his gaze to the floor. In agreement?
“Perhaps,” I said, “I don’t share your pessimism.”
Lorik’s sudden laugh jolted me, a booming, surprising sound. He laughed too loudly, too fully. My brows furrowed listening to it, watching him, even as my shoulders relaxed, liking the sound entirely too much.
“Oh, fuck, that hurts,” he wheezed, his voice husky and strained but no less pleasing to my ears.
