Would give her last breath to see that he was alive and safe.
The darkness closed in and she tried to fight it, panic lancing her as she realised it wasn’t night falling, but her body failing.
The cold that gripped her worsened, sapping the last of her strength.
But then warmth touched her face.
Something lifted her, cradled her gently against a hard chest. A heart beat steady and strong against her ear, loud in spite of the roaring icy wind. Wind that no longer touched her.
The sound died, spun away with the cold and the pain.
Leaving her dizzy and sleepy.
“Don’t sleep, baby. Stay with me.” Those words roused her, gave her the strength to open her eyes and catch the glimpse of Daimon she had prayed to mother earth to receive.
He leaned over her, his white hair slicked back, his cheeks pink, not concern in his beautiful intense eyes but fear—cold, stark fear that did nothing to warm her.
He bobbed up and down in time with her, kept glancing towards her lap. To her hands. Why? She tried to lift her head to see but it felt too heavy and she collapsed back against him.
Sleep beckoned again.
“Stay awake.” He jostled her, jerking her left and then right, moving her arms.
The chilling cold of her coat and sweater disappeared and she tried to look at herself to see what he was doing.
Her eyes slid down to her hands as they felt different. Warmer. He was rubbing them. Her eyes widened, horror flashing through her. Her fingers were mottled, black and red, blue in places. Fear seized her, sank claws deep into her to steal her breath.
Daimon leaned over her and blew on her hands, hot and moist, chasing some of the numbing cold from them, and then he was lifting her again.
The sound of bubbling water filled the deafening silence and she looked down as he eased her into it, her fuzzy mind struggling to comprehend what was happening. The water felt cold, but there was steam rising from it. The fog in her mind gradually cleared as heat began to seep into her.
She looked at Daimon where he leaned against the edge of the hot tub to her left, his face stricken, fear lighting his eyes.
Fear that turned to relief and then to something darker as he sank forwards.
“Why did you do something as stupid as following me?” he bit out, his voice dripping with the anger that flared in his eyes.
Sleep washed over her again, threatening to pull her under as the warmth of the water suffused her. Her eyes slipped shut.
Gods, she wanted to sleep for days.
Maybe forever.
“Stay awake! I won’t lose you.” Daimon shook her.
She slowly opened her eyes and frowned at him. “I’m here. No need to shout.”
“Sorry,” he murmured, his white eyebrows furrowing as the anger that had been in his eyes abated, shifting to concern again.
He lifted his left hand and touched her burning cheeks, and she wanted to close her eyes again to savour the blissful coolness of his skin.
Cass struggled to keep her eyes open, stared at his face as he worked to warm her, rubbing her hands and her shoulders, scooping the water over her skin. She had never seen him look so afraid. It was strange to see such a strong warrior looking so weak, ruled by fear.
Fear she had caused.
“I was looking for you,” she murmured, her voice hoarse, as if she had been screaming. She wanted to lift her hand and rub her throat, but she didn’t have the strength. His pale blue eyes shifted to meet hers. She looked deep into them, drinking her fill of the concern that shimmered in them, the feelings he tried so hard to hide from her, ones that filled her too. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
His white eyebrows met hard.
“I’m not. Not now. I don’t think I ever will be. I feel sick.” He lowered his eyes to the bubbling water and her heart clenched, the fear she had managed to banish rising again to consume her as it whispered in her ear, taunting her with the fact she had driven him to this, that she was responsible for him wanting pain. His eyes lifted again, colliding with hers. “I need to hear you’ll be all right.”
It hit her that he hadn’t been talking about his state of mind, but about the state of her.
That touched her, deeper than he would ever know. It warmed her too, gave her back some strength, enough that she managed to lift her hand from the water and place it over his where it gripped the edge of the tub.
“I’ll be fine, Daimon. Will you?” Her eyes searched his.
Surprise claimed her as he briefly tangled his fingers with hers, and then cold blasted through her as he released her hand and pulled away.
He busied himself with punching some buttons on a panel, doing it with a vengeance, with such force she expected him to poke a hole straight through it.
The water warmed, deliciously hot.
He settled back beside her again and slipped his left hand into the water, took hold of hers and inspected it.
Cass sucked down a breath, and then looked down at her hands, afraid of what she would see. Relief washed through her. They looked better—flushed pink and not blue or black.
Daimon gently submerged her hands and chunks of ice formed on the surface. “Sorry.”
He went to take his hand away and she tried to stop him but wasn’t fast enough.
She rubbed her hands together, sneaking a glance at him as he frowned at the panel again. The blood that had been covering him was gone, but the lacerations in his roll-neck remained, and the long gashes that were visible on his chest, shoulders and arms were angry red and still seeping blood in places.
“Will you be all right?” she whispered. “The cuts—”
“Already healing,” he interjected, sending
