Page 62 of A Shadow of Betrayal

“If I say I’m sorry, will that help?”

“No,” I grind out, tucking my shaking hands under my legs so he doesn't see them trembling. His eyes follow my movements, and he purses his lips, looking more upset than before. After another few irritated huffs and sighs, he grabs the chair I kicked him out of and turns it, straddling the seat and propping his elbows on the backrest, his eyes never leaving me.

“You need medical attention,” he points out in a low gravelly voice. “It will only get worse if you don't let me heal it.”

“I don’t care,” I whisper, wiggling back on his desk a little, mindful not to move my hurt leg too much.

“Pertinax mulier!” Lennox shouts, standing from his chair and shoving it out of his way as he stalks toward me. “Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“Why are you such a grade-A prick?” I shout back, leaning forward and holding my hands out, pressing them to his well-muscled chest so he doesn't get too close.

“Let me heal you,” Lennox grinds out.

“No. I’ll ask Creed to heal me.” Lennox stops raging and gives me a condescending smirk, cocking his head to the side and sending his long black hair over one shoulder.

“Credence can’t. He doesn't have the ability to heal anyone but himself. So if you want your leg to stop hurting, you’ll allow me to heal it.” I frown, leaning back a little so I can look up into his eyes, trying to determine if he’s lying to me. When he only stares back, my shoulder’s hunch, and I sigh in defeat. The pain in my leg is growing, spreading up into my hip, and I can feel fresh blood seeping into my pants.

“Fine, but only my leg,” I agree hesitantly, holding my breath as Lennox nods in agreement, then pulls the chair back over and sits down. He looks up at me once more, probably double-checking I’m not about to kick him out of his chair again before his big fingers brush up my leg and gently prod at the wound. I hiss in pain, grimacing when it feels like a thousand tiny needles are stabbed into my skin.

“Your pants are in the way,” Lennox mutters, and I scowl at him.

“They're fine. You didn't need to remove clothing when the Demon hurt me,” I point out and Lennox rolls his eyes.

“Yes, but I wasn't worried about something being left in the wound. If I heal this with a rock or piece of wood in there, it will become infected.”

“I’m not taking off my pants,” I grumble. There is no way in hell that I’m taking my damn pants off. He’ll have to figure it out.

“Fine,” he clips out before reaching up with both hands, grabbing the ripped pieces of my pants and yanking hard, making the material shred like paper.

“Lennox!” I squeal in shock, reaching down, batting at his hands as he yanks the fabric of my black and blue pants completely off, leaving only a few inches of fabric above my wound. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You're not comfortable taking off your pants, and I need to see the injury,” he growls, his voice gaining a huskier tone as he eyes the deep puncture wound on my thigh. “How did you get this? Did you set off the arrows?” he asks, making me balk a little.

“What? No! I fell when a Demon surprised me,” I admit, feeling stupid when he arches his thick, scarred brow at me.

“This was self-inflicted?” he asks in an emotionless voice. I’m unsure if he’s mad or amused at me when I nod.

“What happened? Describe everything in detail,” he mutters, his big hand settling on my thigh right under my bleeding wound, his darker-colored skin a stark contrast to my absurdly pale leg. I try not to think about how big his hands are or how close they are to parts of me that are starting to wake up.

“Uh… I was running, then stopped when the Demon came out. I stepped back when it looked like it was going to attack and tripped. I fell on a particularly pointy stick and had to yank it out so I could run,” I tell him, relaxing as warmth slowly fills my body. It starts at my thigh, almost like a thick warm liquid that trails over me, then slowly moves up. I immediately clench my thighs when it reaches my clit, making me inhale sharply as it keeps moving until I feel all warm and safe.

A low chuckle sounds over the room, and I crack an eye, looking down at Lennox and finding him smiling softly at my leg as he slowly heals me. His smile softens his expression, making the lines at the side of his eyes and forehead disappear. “Not how you hurt yourself, Little Demon. That’s pretty self-explanatory. I want to know how your stretch of the Ranger games went. Are you sure there was a Demon? There were no other reports of any beasts on the mountainside today.”

“Yeah. It was a big black one. Real ugly,” I mutter, staring at the door on the other side of Lennox’s office as I think about the odd behavior of the Demon. “Lennox?”

“Hmm?” he mumbles, his attention still solely on my leg. The pain is slowly melting away, and when I look down, I see my skin slowly knitting back together. It would be amazing to watch if there wasn't so much blood running down my leg.

“Are all Demons bad?” I ask, tearing my eyes away from my leg to look back at the big Umbra Hunter sitting in front of me. Lennox’s soft smile fades as he looks up at me for the briefest of moments.

“Why do you ask that?”

I shrug and shake my head. “It's just… There have been a few instances that I’ve come across a Demon, and they didn't attack. I'm wondering why.” I breathe, then grunt when the pain in my leg turns into a sharp burning pain. I instinctually try to pull away from him, but Lennox holds my leg tight, rubbing his thumb over the newly healed skin, soothing away the burning sensation until it fades completely.

“Sorry, the end always sucks the most,” he says, letting my leg go before looking back at me. “And yes. All Demons are bad. They are probably trying to study you for your weak points, Meyer. Don't let them live long enough to do that,” he says in a clear voice, standing up and looking down at me, offering a hand out for me to take.

I eye him and slowly place my hand in his, sliding off his desk and standing before him. My head only reaches his shoulder, and I have to tip it back in order to keep eye contact.

“Alright,” I answer, then frown when I see movement out of the corner of my eye. Flicking my eyes to the left, I freeze when I find a set of black eyes trained on me. Wild, long black hair is hanging around a stunningly handsome face as it tilts slowly to the side… full lips pulled down in a frown as he stays hidden in the shadows of the corner. Are their parents gods? How are all three brothers so damn attractive?!

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