Page 216 of The Wishing Game

I blink in surprise.

"You...would? Just like that?"

"If you will forgive me," he murmurs in a soft tone.

I gawk at him for a moment before I burst into laughter.

He frowns.

"Of course you'd want something in return." I shake my head. "Not everything in life is an exchange. If you want to do something, you do it because it is the right thing to do, not because you expect something in return. As far as forgiveness goes, you don't barter for it, youearnit."

And with that, I turn my back to him, going to the window and waiting for him to leave. Surely, if I ignore him long enough, he'll get tired of this and do his hocus-pocus thing out of my room.

Steps echo in the room, and in a matter of seconds, I feel him behind me.

Of course he wouldn't leave.

It's dark out, and the windows are semi-reflective. I raise my gaze to see his shadowy figure behind me, his hands in the air as he tentatively lowers them down on my shoulders.

"I vow to never speak of Erithea's secret again," he speaks in a low voice.

"Is that so?" I raise an unbelieving brow at him.

"A vow once spoken cannot be broken. I will not ask for anything in exchange."

I don't reply. It's the least he can do.

"Now will you allow me to heal you?"

I half turn to glare at him.

"You're impossible."

"And you are still bleeding," he says as he takes my injured hand in his, peeling away the napkin to reveal the messy cut. He trails his fingers over my palm, and I wince at the sensation.

He stops.

"I apologize," he murmurs, bringing my hand to his mouth. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply before his tongue peeks out to lick the entire length of the wound. A shiver goes down my back and I swallow hard as I keep myself still. He parts his lips over my palm, sucking on the residual blood. But even as the wound closes, he continues to slowly lap at it.

"That's enough," I say as I pull my hand away. "Thanks," I mutter awkwardly.

"I do not like you bleeding," he adds quietly. "You will not bleed again under my watch."

"Sorry to break it to you, but I bleed once a month whether you like it or not," I mumble dryly.

His eyes flash at me.

"What?" he thunders. "How?"

Amusement plays at my lips as I watch outrage flood his features.

"It's called menstruation," I chuckle.

He's staring at me, unblinking.

"An adult female bleeds once a month. I doubt it's any different in your world." After all, it's not only a human trait. Other mammals menstruate, too.

"I am not entirely familiar, but goddesses have different constitutions," he adds pensively. "This does not harm you?"

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