Page 50 of Immortal Burden

~Lucian~

Impetuous. Captivating. Stud.

I tracked Ryker’s movements as he returned to his living room, now dressed in clean, dry clothing, a pair of sweats that hung deliciously low on his hips, and a snug gray tee that drew attention to his cut figure.

He held a towel out to me, which I took with trembling hands.

A soft thud beside me on his bold purple couch had me turning my head curiously to see a pile of fresh clothes on the cushion.

“Here you go,” he said. “They’re baggy on me, but they should fit you.” He took a seat on the coffee table in front of me. “I’m sorry I can’t conjure anything better right now.” He stared at his hands, his distress obvious.

“Cornelius would not inflict permanent damage. It is not in his best interests, given his plans for you. It was a warning, a reminder of the power he wields. Your magic should return shortly,” I assured him.

“Punishment is what it is,” he muttered.

Before I could speak to his distress, he shifted his weight and changed the subject, gesturing to the clothes and the towel in my hand. “I know you can’t catch a cold, or anything, but those muddy, burned and soaked clothes must feel like shit.”

I hesitated.

He cocked an eyebrow. “You want some privacy?” he asked, astounded and clearly confused, because that didn’t fit with my open personality in the slightest. Or what we’d shared together of late.

“It’s not that.”

“Then have at it,” he urged.

A curse slipped past my lips, as I strained to reach for them, my open wounds and third-degree burns agitated at the slight movements.

He leaned closer, his brow furrowing, scrutinizing me.

With all the commotion and his running around since we’d teleported into his home, he’d barely taken a beat. It’d had him overlooking what I’d hoped he’d continue to.

Until now.

“Why the fuck aren’t you healing?”

Thus far, I’d told him the truth in all things. However, I was reluctant to do so now, concerned about his reaction.

“It seems we are even once more,” I jested instead, attempting a redirect. “You saved me from a meaningless fiery death.”

I knew my attempted deflection had failed with the look he tossed my way. “Lucian!” he hissed.

“I am between feeds,” I answered evasively.

“How long?”

I shrugged noncommittally. “Five days, give or take.”

“What?” he sputtered. “You might be an Ancient, but that’s way too long. You must be tremendously weak.”

“I am not at my best,” I admitted. “Although, weak is not a term I would use.”

“How the hell did you manage that tackle on Cornelius?”

“He is arrogant. His guard was down, as usual because he believes himself above attacks or reprisals from lesser beings such as us.” I wiggled my eyebrows, trying for levity. “The element of surprise can work wonders.”

He shook his head, not accepting of my light-hearted take on things. “I don’t understand. Why would you—wait! Five days ago?” His gaze snapped to mine. “That was when we… when you fed from me.”

“I was concerned that ingesting another’s blood would corrupt the connection between us, at least until it could be recharged through being in one another’s presence again.”

---