Page 98 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

“Minnie…” He sighs. “I can’t just cut around the wound.”

“Why? I’ll do it!” I say and reach for the scissors. But right as I move, a loud groan of pain slips past my lips. Damn it! I can’t even move without feeling the most intense pain.

“Sit back and let me tend to you,” he commands me. He wrenches the scissors from me again and continues cutting through the skirt of my dress.

“Mine! This is unseemly. You cannot undress me,” I protest weakly.

“That’s exactly what I am doing, Minnie,” he says drily.

“But this is against the rules. No one but my mate can see me without my clothes,” I continue, trying to stop him but failing miserably.

“It’s nothing I haven’t already seen before, Minnie. Stop fidgeting. You’re only hurting yourself.”

I open my mouth to argue but then promptly close it as I replay his words in my mind. It’s nothing he hasn’t…seen before?

“What exactly have youseenbefore?” I ask, unable to control the vitriol from my voice. “Andwhohave you seen before?”

The thought of Mine seeing another female in a state of undress is…distressing.

He glances at me, then grins.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about that.” Then he winks.

“Mine!” I grit out.

Alas, with the pain in my chest flaring once more, I suppose I will have to find another time to interrogate him on his past trysts. Although… Why do I care about his past trysts? Why do I care what he does with another female?

Except I do. I very much do. So much so, the rage I feel is giving this damn pain quite the competition.

Humans have loose morals. They engage in all types of unseemly activities—like those people from the party. They touch each other and they eat their mouths and they…

I grit my teeth. Glancing at Mine, I get unusually tense as I picture him doing the same with another female.

“Relax, Minnie,” he murmurs. “I’m not going to do anything to you, all right? You have my promise.”

I narrow my eyes at him.

“Your promise to what?”

“To not take advantage of you while you’re in pain.”

He finishes cutting my skirt and is now starting on the bodice. He cuts through my dress until he reaches the top of the neckline, at which point he pulls the two halves of material off my body.

Luckily, I am wearing one of those brassieres females in this world love so much, so my chest is not completely naked. But on my lower body, I am only left in a pair of white shorts that only come up mid-thigh, leaving far too much of my flesh available for his perusal.

The urge to cover myself is overwhelming, but the pain that comes with every small movement is even more so.

“See, wasn’t that hard,” Mine says as he opens the first aid box.

I grumble unhappily under my breath. It might not be hard for him, but it is for me. Modesty is very important for Aperite high-born ladies. If anyone heard that I might have appeared half-naked in front of a strange male, I would be shamed and ostracized.

“Hurry up then. It hurts.”

“I know, sweetie. I’ll work as fast as I can,” he murmurs sweetly. His eyes meet mine, and he gives me a smile. Somehow, that works to make me less belligerent. I suppose Iambeingrather obtuse. If I want him to remove the bullet, then I have to make this concession.

His gaze dips to my chest—well, above my breasts, to be more precise. I look down too, grimacing when I see the ugly gunshot wound. It’s right above my heart.

Redness stretches across a wide radius, all around a deep hole that gurgles out blood.

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