Page 91 of The Gods Forbid

Oh, it was beating alright. So much so, that heat and vitality pumped through his limbs and warmed his skin to a degree that haunted me in my dreams. “Sebastian, the fact that you feel remorse at all is a good thing.”

“Doesn’t bring them back,” he snapped back, his voice thin and harsh. I knew he wasn’t snapping at me. No, no he was lashing out at himself.

I nodded, smiling softly. “When you’re ready, we can see if we can organize something for their families.”

For the first time, I watched Sebastian’s heart break in his own eyes. His chin dipped down in the barest nod. “Thank you.”

My smile grew, and I heard an odd stopping sound, like a breath hitching. “I’m really sorry for barging in. I just couldn’t leave you like that.”

Sebastian’s jaw set even harder, somehow making the already razor sharp edge grow harsher. “You said that.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “Do you not know?”

“Know what?”

I sighed deeply. This was uncomfortable. “You, um, you start pushing out your power when you have nightmares. It’s like a solar flare, I’d imagine.”

Sebastian shot up, leaning towards me. “What do you mean?”

I dropped my gaze to my hands. “Nothing serious. The house just gets really hot. Normally it’s not too bad, but this time it felt like you might have been hurting yourself.” It was then, looking at my hands, that I realized I’d burned my palm on the doorknob. I lifted it, showing it to him with a bashful smile. “Works a treat on metal, too.”

Sebastian’s eyes went wild, his breath coming in a near pant. “I’m ripping off that fucking door.”

I blinked quickly, shaking my head. “It’s not … you don’t have to—you were the one suffering.”

Sebastian barely acknowledged me. “Give me your hand.”

As if in a trance, I extended my hand to him. Uncaring that we hardly touched, he treated me like this was par for the course, placing one hand around my forearm, the other cradling my palm in his.

With the same wash of power that I’d felt yesterday, shooting up my leg, he healed the burn on my palm. Warmth trickled up my arm, pooling low in my stomach.

He still wasn’t wearing a shirt. That was very obvious all of the sudden.

I was in a pajama set that was barely more than a scarp of silky fabric. That also seemed important to note.

And we were sitting on a bed.

At night. In the dark.

“You really have to stop healing me,” I said, knowing he’d view it as a passing tease rather than the real meaning, that I didn’t think I could handle feeling his power like that again.

“Stop putting yourself in situations where you need to be healed,” he said back, playfulness in his tone.

I didn’t find that funny at all. “I would never have just left you. I wouldn’t do that to someone—” I cut myself off right before I added I cared about. That was the horrible realization of it all, that I’d grown to deeply care for him.

“I thought you told me you weren’t sacrificial,” Sebastian said, grinning wickedly.

“I didn’t even notice the burn, or I’d have shaken you awake to fix it. How’s that for sacrificial?” I didn’t need to add that I hadn’t felt it because I was too distracted by him, half-naked and in rumpled sheets, but that was besides the point.

Sebastian let out a low chuckle, the sound skating over my skin and drawing goosebumps in its wake. Yep, time to go. At least my hair was pulled in front of my shoulders to cover my chest.

“You should get some sleep,” I said. Sebastian nodded slowly, clearly exhausted. By the time I was standing, he’d slumped back against the headboard like his body had betrayed him and fallen asleep before he could allow it to.

Maybe in another world, where he watched me leave, I would have returned to my bedroom. But now, he was asleep.

Now, I didn’t want to leave. He’d done the same with me. There was a twin chair in the corner of the room, similar to the one in mine. So, I sat down and tucked my knees to my chest, content to watch him dream peacefully and have the confirmation, with my own eyes, that he was okay.

Chapter 18