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Finally, the deafening sirens faded into the distance.
Still, Ambrose didn’t tell me to stop. I kept running, until the trees ahead seemed to thin. We burst out of the trees and onto a deserted dirt road, leading to the Source only knew where.
“That’s far enough,” Ambrose panted.
At his words, my legs buckled under me. All my exhaustion hit me at once and the adrenaline fled. The pain in my shoulder seemed to triple and I collapsed onto the cold ground, gasping for breath.
“Let me see your arm,” Ambrose commanded, already reaching for my torn jacket.
I let him pull at the fabric and inspect the gashes on my shoulder. I was too tired to protest even if I’d wanted to.
“Why didn’t the sirens affect you?” I asked through gritted teeth. “I kept thinking I needed to follow them.”
“I’ve spent years training my mind’s defenses,” he said shortly, drawing back from me. “These wounds are shallow, and their claws aren’t venomous or anything. You’ll be fine…”
There was something in his tone that made me look up at him. “What is it?”
He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I could heal it for you, but I don’t have to. It’s up to you.”
My eyes widened with understanding. He was asking if I wanted blood.
Suddenly, I wasn’t sure. I’d never been offered the choice before. My injuries had always been far too severe to even talk about alternate methods of healing. “I thought it was frowned upon to share blood with anyone other than your mate.”
“I don’t really care what’s frowned upon.”
True, I remembered. He’d even given blood to Bael only yesterday–something I still meant to ask him about. I supposed this would be the best moment if I was going to get answers about that.
“Fine,” I said rashly. “I mean, yes. Please heal me.”
Looking slightly surprised, Ambrose nevertheless dropped his bag and his sword on the ground and unbuckled the emptysword-sheath from around his waist–presumably so he could sit down without it getting in the way. Then, he sat down on the ground beside me and held out his hand in front of my face.
I stared at his hand blankly for a full ten seconds, nearly going cross-eyed, before I realized what was happening. He wasn’t going to bite his own arm and just hold it to my mouth. No, he was expecting me to actually bite him.
This had never happened before.
A heat crept up the back of my neck, equally uncomfortable as it was intriguing.
I’d bitten Scion before, but that was different. And, in fairness, we’d always had sex either during or directly after. A casual bite felt wrong. Dirty somehow, and also deeply impersonal.
I’d gotten used to treating this sort of blood sharing as separate from anything intimate. It was like being fed medicine by a healer, except now that veil had been violently yanked away.
I might as well have crawled into his lap and bitten his throat for all the difference it made.
“Well?” Ambrose asked, looking slightly confused. “Are you waiting for something?”
Yes!I screamed in my head. I was waiting for one of us to do something rational and decide this was a terrible idea.
Instead, though, I took his hand in mine and pulled his arm closer to my mouth.
Immediately I realized how ridiculous this position was. I couldn’t easily bite his wrist at this angle, and especially not ifhe wasn’t going to make it any easier for me by shifting closer or turning his arm.
“Nevermind,” I blurted out, dropping his hand. “I don’t need it fixed that badly. I’ll be fine.”
“Suit yourself,” he pushed back up off the ground, and walked over to retrieve his bag. I thought he sounded slightly relieved.
Nonplussed, I made to get up as well, pushing myself up on my palm before I’d thought through the consequences. I let out an involuntary sound of pain, somewhere between a scream and a groan, as agony shot up my arm and into my shoulder.
Instantly, Ambrose was back on the ground in front of me. This time he was far closer, leaning over me, as if checking for new injuries.
