Page 15 of Moonlight & Mayhem

Moon spun around. “What are you doing?”

“Getting up,” he explained.

“No, you're not,” she insisted.

“I need to stretch,” he lied. What he really needed was to sleep for days, but that wasn’t going to help with the impending fight that was sure to show up on Dark Chaos’s doorstep.

“You need to lie down,” she hissed.

“You always this bossy?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“It’s kind of hot,” he said. Her cheeks colored, and he liked that he could at least still do that to her.

Mayhem swung his legs over the side of the table and the room tilted slightly. Moon noticed, and she was across the room before he could blink, one hand grabbing his forearm and the other bracing his chest.

“Easy,” she said, resting her hand on his chest. Her touch changed everything. His wolf stopped pacing and the pain dulled. It didn’t disappear, but it dulled, and Mayhem froze. Moon must have felt something too, because her eyes widened.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. She didn’t answer. “Moon.”

Her fingers tightened on his chest. “The monitor.” Mayhem glanced over and noticed that his heart rate had dropped. So had his temperature. Moon released him, and the numbers began climbing again.

They both stared at the monitor, and Mayhem slowly looked at her. “Do that again.”

“No,” she whispered.

“Moonlight.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s for science,” he said.

“You are not using that word correctly,” she chided.

“Touch me,” he ordered. Her gaze snapped to him, and Mayhem smirked. “For medical purposes.”

“You are impossible,” she insisted. Moon finally put her hand on his chest, and Mayhem’s wolf settled instantly. The monitor steadied, and Moon went pale. “That’s not possible,” she insisted.

“Apparently it is,” he countered. She pulled her hand away, and the heart monitor sped up again. Mayhem watched realization move across her face. “The bond,” he said.

Moon shook her head. “We haven’t completed a mating bond.”

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” he said.

“It shouldn’t affect the poison, though,” she said.

“Maybe it’s not poison,” he whispered.

Moon went still, and Mayhem frowned. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she breathed. He could tell that something was running through that beautiful brain of hers.

“That look says otherwise,” he said.

Moon paced toward the counter. “When you were unconscious earlier, your wolf responded to me.” Mayhem remembered only fragments from earlier—her scent, her voice, and feeling safe.

“I figured,” he said, bobbing his eyebrows at her.

“No, not like that,” she grumbled. Moon turned to face him. “Every time your vitals dropped, they stabilized when I touched you.”

His wolf rumbled, and Mayhem leaned back against the table. “So my mate is literally keeping me alive.”