Page 246 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

I said nothing.

And suffered.

Luka pointed at my collarbone again like he was waiting for permission.

Zenith groaned loudly beside me and slammed his feet against the floor as Orion stitched his arm. Scorpius reached over and touched my shoulder.

Vegar whimpered.

Malum glanced at me, silver eyes wide with worry.

Crack. My spine snapped.

Everything went dark.

Cold water splashed across my face, and I sputtered with outrage as it filled my nose. It was frigid compared to my clammy skin.

“Stay conscious,” Luka ordered.

I blinked through watery lashes.

Instead of leaning across me to get to my neck, Luka threw his powerful leg over my hips.

I froze.

He straddled me and leaned forward.

I choked with surprise.

The apex of his thighs was nestled against mine, and he’d put on a new sweatshirt, but it was soaked with sweat and blood. It clung to his muscled upper body like a second skin.

I held my breath.

His fingers danced gently across my collarbone.

There was a loud ripping noise as Luka tore apart the top of my sweatshirt so it was hanging open to expose my collarbone. He leaned closer and flexed his thighs for stability as he stitched up the gash.

He had nimble fingers for a large man.

Crack. Things shifted in my back, and I swallowed vomit as my limbs shook.

Involuntarily I flung my hips forward and curled my shoulders back to alleviate the pain. My core rubbed against Luka.

“Sorry,” I choked out. “Can’t help it.”

The tops of Luka’s cheekbones turned a faint pink, but he didn’t look up from his work. He silently fixed my broken pieces.

I grunted.

Squeezed my eyes shut.

Whimpered.

Luka made a sound of concern.

Again the pain exploded. Again I slammed my hips forward and arched my back as I squeezed my eyes shut. This time, I rubbed against a solid object.

Half-delirious, I mumbled, “Why. Do you have a weapon?”

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