Page 55 of Stalking Wendy Darling

“Turn around,” I croaked, my heart collapsing when she did, when I saw all of it, all of her. She bled from ten different places, others pulsing with raw burns. I knew exactly how painful they were.

She’d been tortured. I blinked fast when she faced me again, her arms very carefully coming up to rest on my shoulders. “I’ll be fine. I’m a tough girl.”

My laugh was twisted. “You might be tough enough to endure this, Wendy, but I’m not. I can’t stand it.”

She pulled me down at the same time she rose up, kissing me with a softness that made everything inside me hurt. I wanted to drag her closer and kiss her until I couldn’t breathe, but there would be a time for that. Now was not it. I laid a lingering kiss to her temple, pouring every ounce of wrath and fury, love and care into it. Then I forced myself to pull away.

“I have something that can dull the pain, but let’s get you cleaned up first.” Blood trailed down her ribs from the worst wounds, where the prod had burned her in the same place over and over. I bit back nausea, washing away the blood, hating every sharp inhale she took, every whimper she tried to bite off.

She had tears in her eyes by the time I’d covered each welt in lotion and wrapped enough bandages around her chest, stomach, and legs to fill a doctor’s surgery.

“Thank you,” she rasped when I was done, guiding her to the bed. Our bed.

“You slaughtered my enemies and brought mehishead. Of course I would tend to your injuries.” I left a kiss on her forehead and moved away before she could pull me down beside her, ignoring her cry of outrage when I strode out of the door to terrorise Ramone into cooking for my woman.

I returned to Wendy ten minutes later with a hastily heated bowl of stew, a loaf of bread, three chunks of cheddar, strips of beef jerky, and a cup of wine. Was it overkill? Yes. Did I give a shit? No.

“I thought you’d abandoned me, asshole,” she huffed when I entered, crossing the room to her.

“Never,” I swore, catching her off guard with another kiss to her temple. “Eat. You need strength for your body to heal.”

She ignored the food for the moment, reaching up to successfully pull me down beside her this time, her lips meeting mine the instant they were within reach. I groaned, the storm inside me howling to be unleashed, but not yet, not while she was hurt.

“I’m keeping you,” she warned me. “I hope you know.”

Her words unwound a tight knot of panic inside me, allowing a sigh to leave me. “You better, because I’m not letting you out of my sight again, Wendalyn.”

“It’s kinda sexy when you call me my full name,” she said with a little grin, reaching for the bowl of stew. “Kinda scary, too.”

“You like me scary,” I pointed out.

Her eyes were still dark with pain but that didn’t stop them glittering. “I like everything about you. Especially the scary parts.”

“I wish you’d never ended up on that island,” I confessed, the words burning my chest, the truth eviscerating me. She’d beenthere,in that evil place that had hurt me over and over. She’d met the Collector. Eldrick. “I hate that you were hurt.”

“Bodies heal,” she dismissed, biting into the bread.

“Minds don’t,” I said quietly.

Very seriously, she asked, “Have you ever heard of speaking about your problems?”

How she’d prised a laugh from me, I had no idea, but a smile curled my mouth nonetheless. I settled my hand on her knee, the one place I knew was free of injuries. “Heard of it, but I’m not a fan.”

“Tough shit. We both talk about it, we both avoid a horrible meltdown, and then we live happily ever after as pirates. Deal?”

Another laugh. How was she doing this?

“Deal,” I agreed, trying not to obsess over the clothes she wore—mine. She hadn’t fastened the strings of the shirt so it hung open, showing a massive bruise on her breastbone. Very slowly, carefully, I leaned in to kiss that mark and her breath hitched. “When you’re healed, when my shock and relief at having you back has worn off to reveal the fury beneath, I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t walk for a week.”

“Jesus,” she breathed.

“Finish your food, darling,” I said with the hint of a smile, leaning back on my elbows. “You’re going to need all your strength to heal.”

Her eyes were a little blown as she looked at me, biting into a lump of cheese without looking away from me. “How long did it take you to heal? Physically.”

I considered it. “A month. But the worst injuries stuck around for half a year.”

“Half a year! I can’t gohalf a yearwithout orgasms!”

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