Page 78 of Nico

"I'm okay," I told him quietly.

He folded his arms. "You got stabbed repeatedly.”

“I’m tough,” I reminded him, and Nico merely rolled his eyes.

"You got stabbed, you almost had your throat cut, and you broke out of silver cuffs."

"You're making a list now?" I asked, amused.

"I'm making sure Ethan doesn't miss anything."

"Bossy,” I murmured.

His cheeks turned faintly pink. "I am not bossy."

I raised an eyebrow.

Ethan snorted. “Yeah, he can be bossy.”

Nico chuckled, and the sound filled the room like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. I'd missed hearing him laugh. Ethan carefully examined the deep slash along my ribs.

The healer cleaned the wound thoroughly before applying herbal salves that immediately cooled the angry sting beneath my skin.

The cut on my shoulder needed several stitches despite my accelerated healing. Then came my wrists. Ethan frowned the moment he saw them.

The burns from the silver had blistered badly. Raw flesh circled both wrists where I'd fought against the cuffs.

"You really didn't hold back,” he said with disapproval.

"I couldn’t, not when my mate’s in danger,” I said.

Ethan nodded once. He didn't ask questions, but simply began treating the burns with practiced hands. Nico stood beside me the entire time.

Whenever Ethan accidentally hit a particularly tender spot, Nico winced harder than I did.

"I think you're feeling this more than I am," I teased.

"I probably am." His answer came so honestly that my smile faded.

I reached over and threaded our fingers together again. "I'm okay. Promise.”

His grip tightened. After nearly forty minutes, Ethan finally stepped back.

"You're good." He looked toward Nico. "Your turn."

He climbed onto the examination bed. Seeing him sit where I'd been moments earlier made something tighten painfully in my chest.

His injuries weren't nearly as severe, but still, watching Ethan clean dried blood from Nico's face stirred something fiercely protective inside me. I hated seeing him hurt.

Half an hour later, we were finally released. The walk back to the cabin felt surreal. The evening sun painted everything gold. Children chased one another through the grass.

Someone grilled dinner nearby, and laughter drifted across the compound. Life had gone on, while mine had nearly ended. Nico brushed his shoulder against mine as we walked.

Neither of us seemed willing to put more than a few inches between us, not that I minded. When we opened the cabin door, Logan was already there.

The second he saw us, he shot to his feet. Relief washed over his face so intensely that it almost hurt to witness.

"You idiots,” Logan said.