Page 67 of Rescued

“So…the human makes an appearance.”

Nate was taken aback.

“You know me? I mean, you know I’m a human?”

“I know all about you—Lan’ara told me.” The old woman’s mouth was pursed, as though she’d tasted something sour. “Spewing uncontrolled emotions all over the place!”

“Well, I’m fucking sorry about that, but it’s Lan’ara I’m worried about!” Nate exclaimed. “She fainted or she’s having a seizure or something! Please—can you help? Or tell me where to take her or who to call?”

The old woman rose at once. She was surprisingly spry for someone who looked like a wrinkled green raisin, Nate thought distractedly.

“Lead the way,” she snapped at him. “And be quick about it! But first we must stop by my hut.”

Nate followed her anxiously to a rickety hut built of driftwood that wasn’t nearly as nice as the one he and Lan’ara were staying in. The old woman grabbed a bag—he hoped it had medicine in it—and then followed him back over the sandy beach.

The minute she stepped inside their hut, she knelt by Lan’ara’s side and put a hand on her forehead.

“Oh, child,” she murmured mournfully. “This is what I was afraid of—exactly what I warned you about!”

“What? What did you warn her about? Does she have some kind of medical condition?” Nate demanded, kneeling on the mattress on the other side of Lan’ara.

“Yes, she has a condition—you!” snapped the old woman. She glared at him, her sunken eyes blazing. “She has chosen a mate who is broken inside and she poured herself out to heal you!”

“What?” Nate gave her an uneasy look. “I don’t…don’t understand.” He shook his head.

“Tell me—what were you doing before she collapsed?” the old woman demanded. As she spoke, she was pulling things out of her bag—boxes of herbs and a vial of some strange dark blue liquid.

“I…I mean…” Nate didn’t know how to answer. But as it turned out, he didn’t need to.

“Look at this!” The old woman pointed down to one of Lan’ara’s bare breasts. On the tip of her nipple was a golden droplet of nectar. “Were you sucking the Healing Nectar from her breasts?” she demanded, glaring up at Nate. “Were you?”

“Yes, all right.” he growled. “But she told me to—she told me she made it just for me.”

“Of course she did. Any Empath woman will make the Nectar to heal her mate if his body or his mind is broken,” the old woman snapped. “I told her that she should try to keep from it! I told her you weren’t worth trading her life for yours! You…you human.” She spat the word like a curse.

“I still don’t fucking understand,” Nate said. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how you drained her life-force when you drained her nectar!” The old woman was adding several powders into the vial of blue liquid, stirring the mixture furiously as she spoke. “You literally sucked her life away!”

“What?” Nate was horrified. “That can’t be right! How is that even possible?”

“It’s possible all right. When a female has a broken mate—one who’s dark on the inside. One like you.” The old woman lifted Lan’ara’s head gently and placed the vial of blue liquid to her lips. “I just hope I can bring her back. If not, you just remember that you’re the one who killed her by taking all she had to give and giving nothing in return!”

Nate watched numbly as she coaxed the liquid down Lan’ara’s throat. The beautiful Kindred woman looked so helpless and still. Like a broken doll, lying on the bed they had shared together.

And I’m the one who broke her, he thought, feeling sick. I hurt her with my darkness, with my pain. My fucking past. I drained her like some kind of a fucking vampire, just being near her!

Now he understood why she had fainted in the Singing Woods—he’d been triggered by the sounds in the underbrush and she had managed to bring him back. She’d done the same thing in the caverns as they swam together. It had weakened her so much she had almost drowned afterwards.

And then I bring her back to the hut and drain her even more—sucking the life out of her and getting off on it the whole time!

In that moment, Nate hated himself with a dark, all-consuming hatred that filled him like black, polluted water.

Lan’ara stirred weakly and cried out—a sound of pain and distress.

“What are you doing, you great idiot?” the wrinkled old woman demanded, slapping his arm angrily. “Here I am trying to heal her and you’re spewing your negative emotions all over her! Go—get away from her! You’re hurting her!”

Horrified at the idea of making things worse, Nate rose hastily.

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