Page 95 of Blood Feast

“You’re good at this,” he said. “I can tell you assisted in the infirmary at the Temple of Kyria.”

Her frustration only intensified. “I had hoped to spend more time in Orthros’s Healing Sanctuary by now.”

He fell silent, unsure what words would land wrong amid her fraught emotions.

With a rag soaked in the stream, she washed the tainted gore from around his shoulder wound. Her gentle strokes on his chest mesmerized him. He should be concerned about the lethargy spreading through his limbs, but it was so pleasing to sit here and watch her hands.

His eyelids grew heavier, and the world tilted. She caught him, easing him down onto his back.

“Lio?” Her voice was sharp, echoing through their bond. “Stay with me.”

“I’m here.” He forced his eyes open.

“This will sting.” Cassia uncapped one of Tuura’s cleansing potions, then offered him her wrist. “You may want to bite down on something.”

She wouldn’t get a protest out of him. He opened his lips on the inside of her wrist. Her skin was so soft.

She tapped a few drops of the potion into his open wound. Fire shot deep into his shoulder. With a hiss, he sank his fangs into her flesh. The flavor of her blood soon eclipsed his pain.

She tasted of regret. The battle plagued her, endless imaginings of it that had never come to pass. Her wielding her dagger a moment earlier and preventing his wound. Using her magic a moment later and watching him die.

Her power engulfing the entire lighthouse, taking mortal and immortal lives.

He wanted to wash all those thoughts away and give her comfort from his veins. He cursed the stone dagger. It wouldn’t be safe for her to drink until they were sure his blood was pure.

He wrapped his good arm around her and pulled her down against his chest.Stop. Don’t torture yourself. Your magic is what turned the tide in tonight’s battle.

No. It’s what caused the battle in the first place.

We all expected our first encounter with Gift Collectors to go much worse. Thanks to Mak’s weapons and your roses, we survived.

Despite his attempts at reassurance, her pain only cut deeper into their Union.You’re a fugitive. You’re wounded, mind and body. Because of me. Why aren’t you ever angry at me?

I…I’m afraid if I answer that question, it will only make you hurt more.Goddess help him. For once, he didn’t know what the right words were.

A silence fell between them. She turned her face away, but he kept holding her. The sting in his side disappeared, and he felt his shoulder knit back together. The silence remained, a wound on their vows.

Cassia helped him sit up and examined the new skin on his shoulder. A chill crept over him.

“You all right?” Mak was watching him.

Lio rubbed his chest. “Cassia stopped it before it reached my heart.”

“He’s still tired and weak,” Cassia said.

“That will pass,” Lio said. “How is Lyros?”

Lyros sat with Mak’s arms around him. Mak wiped a stray bit of blood off the corner of Lyros’s mouth.

Lyros’s cheeks darkened. “I’m excellent.”

Cassia pointed to the bandage on Mak’s arm. “What about your gash?”

Mak flexed his arm gingerly. “Not bad. I’ll let Tuura’s poultices work on it a while, then have a drink at our next stop.”

Cassia glanced up at the night sky. “We still have hours of darkness. After Lio and Lyros rest a bit longer, will they be in any condition for us to step onward tonight?”

“We’re right here,” Lio protested.

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