Page 51 of Possess Me at Midnight
“Healing.” He squeezes my hand. “I stopped the burn in time.”
A whole sentence. And now, he’s breathing easier. His injuries are healing. “You’re certain?”
Again, he nods, which resembles a jerk of his stubbled chin more than anything.
“You’re hurt,” I whisper, more to remind myself than him.
“The damage stopped when you dragged me from the cellar. If you hadn’t come for me?—”
“Of course I would.” Did he actually assume I would leave him there to die?
“You shouldn’t have. You could have run straight into danger.” He fights for breath, squeezing my hand again. “When I’m well, I’ll be putting you over my knee for that.”
It should be absurd—this massive warrior, naked and wounded, trying to intimidate me with nothing but the force of his will. He can barely lift his head, his magical signature is gossamer-thin, and yet…when he looks at me with those blazing green eyes, I feel the full weight of his dominance. Even broken, even bleeding, Ice commands the space around him. Commands me. My pulse quickens, and I have the sudden, shameful urge to bare my throat in submission.
My face flames. “You’ll do no such thing.”
He rolls his eyes. “There you go, ruining all my fun.”
A joke? He nearly died ten minutes ago, and now he’s telling a joke? Clearly, he’s doing his best to hide the extent of his injuries.
“Amusing,” I drawl.
“Infuriating,” he corrects. “No more chances with your safety. On this point, Bram and I would agree, if he was conscious. You’re far too deep into magickind’s troubles.”
“I’ll tell you what I told my brother: I won’t sit about like some helpless princess while the rest of magickind fights. It’s my cause, too.”
“Your funeral as well, if you’re not careful.”
“It could be anyone’s. Everyone’s. That’s Mathias’s doing, not mine. Now, stop arguing and tell me how you feel. Has the internal damage stopped?”
“Finally. Between distance and your touch, I’ve improved.”
“Anything else?”
He hesitates. “My head. When the mine hit me, the force of it propelled my head into the wall. I feel as if my skull is threatening to split open.”
Fighting to keep my gaze above the waist of his very naked body, I grip his large, calloused hand in mine. Closing my eyes, I gather up my power and summon the siren in me. To Ice, I send waves of healing, peace, and sleep.
He growls and throws a solid wall between us, blocking my well-meaning sentiments. I scowl. Ice has the energy to block me? Or is the mine still working its dark magic?
Suddenly, the barricade crumbles, and I feel Ice again. But this time, he sends me a blast of something else in return—desire that’s thick, molten hot, and oozing the most exquisite, breath-stealing lust.
With a gasp, I jerk free.
A tired smile creases his face. Despite his exhaustion, his arrogance shines through. “Felt that, did you? I told you; I’ve no need for your happy sunshine and rainbows.”
“I merely sent you peaceful healing,” I argue. “You need it.”
“Rubbish. I let you feel what I truly need.”
That overwhelming battering ram of desire and yearning? Gaping, I force myself to breathe. Knowing he wants me that badly… I’m staggered. I focus on Ice, on those green eyes of his that glow with unquestionable hunger. Exhaustion still etches his face, and I know that blasting me with his desires cost precious energy he doesn’t have.
“No one has ever bombarded me with their emotions like that. Why did you?—”
“Really? So…you tell others what to feel and they abide?”
I frown. “I try to be helpful and soothe the troubles or worries others have, not force unwanted feelings upon them.”
