Page 58 of The Healer

He crossed the distance between them, but instead of lifting her, he gripped her hips and tugged her snug along his length. With nowhere else to go, she draped her raised arms over his shoulders.

“If you weren’t sick…” He ran his hands up her spine to press her against his chest.

“What? You’d slow dance with me?” She offered what she hoped was a teasing smile, trying to disarm the moment because, damn, if he kept this up, sick or not, she might seduce him. Then she ruined that thought with a sneeze which bounced her temple off his sculpted chest.

“Definitely.” He chuckled.

He glided his hands down, past her hips to grip her backside. Then she was airborne with a garbled squeal. When he threw her over his shoulder, he swatted her butt cheek for good measure. She was so grateful she had panties on despite the thin cloth not hindering the sting of his palm searing her skin.

“I could throw up.” She wouldn’t, not when she had his tight ass in her line of vision.

“Throw up what? Soup? You digested that hours ago.”

He had a point. She scowled. “I’m certain I saved a pea or a carrot.”

“Pizza’s on the way.” He swatted her backside again. But before she could spew the dire threats on the tip of her tongue, he swung her over and caught her in his arms, pinning her to his chest. “Feeling better? Still dizzy?”

“Better, yes. Dizzy? I’ll say no, because then I can pee in peace.” Maybe revealing her possible lie wasn’t wise.

He smirked. “One faint, and you’ll pee under strict supervision.”

She shuddered, not that it was sexy to watch someone pee, but she liked the intensity of his gaze and his no-nonsense attitude. She hadn’t lied about liking masculine men.

“Cold?” He ran his palms up and down her upper arms.

She shrugged, not knowing what else to say. Sliding out of his embrace, she climbed onto the two-seater and tugged the blankets over her. He studied her but said nothing. His focus exploded butterflies in her stomach overriding the shame still lingering. Something sensual and breathtaking skittered across his features. A ball of molten need unfolded in her core. She shifted in her seat.

A knock at her door broke his gaze. He bounded over and on a muted growl, swung the door open with a “what do you want?”

“Hey, my pack, my doc, my responsibility.” Dane peeked in and waved. “How are you feeling, Doc?” He shoved Rhys aside with effort and shut the door. “Want my blood?”

At least he was asking first.

“No, thanks, not when we don’t know whether it will work on a common cold. I’d prefer to look at it through a microscope.” At what lay ahead for her, excitement filled her like an inflated balloon.

“We can do a syringe.” He sat on the couch Rhys had napped on. “Shifters don’t get sick, Ilona.”

As tempted as she was by his offer, she couldn’t be the guinea pig to assuage her curiosity. “What if it heals me, but is slowly killing my human cells or converting them into a hybrid?”

He clenched his jaw and rubbed his palms along his thighs. “How’s your wound?”

“It doesn’t hurt.” She rolled her shoulder to prove it.

Dane’s brow furrowed as if he didn’t believe her. Rhys, still standing with his arms folded across his chest, glowered at Dane. Her breath hitched at the fury pouring off Rhys. Her reaction triggered a dry cough. He hurried to offer her a glass of water. She thanked him with a smile and sipped, enjoying the cold water soothing her throat. After she placed the glass on the coffee table, she faced a doubtful Dane.

“What? Don’t want to take my word for it?” She huffed.

Flicking the blanket open, she tugged her shirt’s strap off her shoulder, exposing her chest from collarbone to cleavage. Red marks marred her skin where the lacerations had been.

Rhys pinched his lips, gripped Dane by his shirt, and thrust them both out the door.

Ilona gaped then yelped when a bang reverberated through the house as if Rhys had shoved Dane against the siding. She scrambled off the couch, wasting precious seconds to untangle herself before racing onto the porch. The cold hit her, summoning a full-body shiver. She gasped, goosebumps traveling from her toes to her scalp in an instant.

Rhys did have Dane pinned to the wall. He growled at him, making hoarse noises harsh enough to shred a human’s vocal cords. She caught a few words like ‘protect,’ ‘mate,’ ‘disrespect,’ and ‘claim.’

Dane laughed, unphased by Rhys’s words.

Chilled to the bone and lacking the tolerance to deal with whatever this was, she spun on her heel. “That’s it. You two can just—”

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