And both of them are dripping wet.
Roarke is pulling himself up off the floor, rubbing his jaw, blood smeared under his nose.
“Leave him alone,” I growl, instantly regretting it as the remnants of the worst headache in my life boom and echo in my skull.
“Vexy,” Seth says. “How do you feel?”
“Like shit,” I moan, counting Elorsins. Seth in front of me. Roarke almost playing with his brothers’ feelings, and Darkness letting himself get played, but no Pax. “Where’s Pax?”
Killian lifts his fist again, stalking toward his Allure brother. Crap, Roarke, what did you tell him to piss him off so much?
“He didn’t do anything,” I declare – trying to save him from another hit to the face. It seems to work, and my chest relaxes – I don’t like seeing any of them in pain. Not Seth when he acts like my spirit animal, or Killian playing protector, or Roarke when all he was doing is caring for me.
I mutter out more words, but I’m not sure what because I’m too busy counting heads again. Yep – no angry-alpha Pax. My angry-alpha Pax, who rode with them to investigate the origin of the people hunting us. People who were hunting him too.
My heart starts beating way too fast.
“You have to get specific here,” Seth says.
He kneels beside the bed, which puts him down at my eye level. Having my eyes open is hard enough work right now. There’s no way I’m sitting up to deal with whatever this is that’s going on. Seth’s brilliant blue eyes try to hold my gaze, one hand resting on my shoulder, the other brushing under my chin. Coaxing my eyes open a little more, or to stay open. I feel like I haven’t slept in weeks – heavy with fatigue and almost shaking with fear.
“Tell me where Pax is first,” I manage.
“Pax is fine. He’s outside – calming down. Did Roarke kiss you?” Seth whispers.
He runs a finger over my eyebrow, gently lifting my eyelid and getting a really good look at my eyes. His eyes are ice blue. They look like someone found the perfect blue gem and gifted it to him in those moments before birth when everything about us is designed.
Then they gave him the worst sense of humor and almost ruined their perfection. Almost.
“Yes,” I manage, without even thinking.
Actually, I am thinking – about why Seth is inspecting my eyes, and clearly, I just said the wrong thing because Killian smacks Roarke in the face again.
“Stop hitting him,” I try to growl, but end up groaning instead. “He didn’t hurt me.”
“But he kissed you?” Seth asks, letting go of my eyelid and trailing his fingers down my cheek before running his thumb over my lips.
Yes, Roarke kissed me, but damn, Seth’s lips on mine right now would be a welcome distraction from the pain in my head.
Which makes me, what? Crazy? I kiss one Elorsin one minute, then want another the next. Hearts aren’t supposed to be split up like this.
“Vexy?” he whispers.
“Yes, last night. Not today. Today he didn’t kiss me and last night he didn’t hurt me. Stop asking me questions. My head really chuckin’ hurts, guys.”
“Ouch, Killian, ouch,” Roarke says – Killian’s dragging him across the room.
“Take her pain,” Killian growls. “And nothing else.”
Roarke’s hand rests on my hair, and the ache turns into a fog. A blissful, heavy, pain-free fog. My vision wavers, and flashes of sparkly light dance around the room.
“I don’t know what happened. I was yelling, then I was unconscious – again.” My mouth has more room to express itself now that the pain has settled. “Then he took my clothes off.” I might be about to add that I was cold and shaking and hurting, and nakedness was the least of my worries, but it’s too late. Killian’s already thrown Roarke across the room.
The pain barely has a chance to seep in before Roarke’s hand is back. Heavier. Held in place by Killian, I think.
“Kitten,” Roarke moans. “Killian, brother, I’m not going to let her hurt.”
“Sorry,” I whisper. “Did you tell them what happened?” The world is fading in and out as I search for that blissful pain-free nothing again.
The conversation drifts away as I hone in on the scent of jasmine and the feeling of light.
“Then you should have put some dry clothes on before you got into bed with her,” Seth says.
“I couldn’t, our bags are downstairs.”
“What about those!” Killian growls.
I don’t open my eyes, but I can picture what he’s talking about.
“Is he pointing to Eydis’ clothes?” I chuckle.
But the words leave my head throbbing again, and instead of listening to the response, I pull a little harder at the feel of Roarke’s hand against my head. At the flow of power that’s dissolving my pain. Wanting it. Claiming it. Relaxing into it.
Allure, meet Pain. Allure, destroy Pain.
The magic feels almost like something I can touch. Like it’s real. Which is stupid, because of course, it’s real. Tangible, maybe that’s the right word.
My head clears enough for me to open my eyes and form sentences again.
“I remember you carrying me inside,” I tell him. “I don’t care about the rest.”
They growl at each other some more, then Roarke rolls his eyes to one side and gives the barest of nods. Suggesting, ‘not here, downstairs,’ to Killian.
“Don’t even think about it,” I order. “You need to tell me what happened too because that was horrible.”
“Seth, stay,” Killian orders.
He grabs Roarke by the hair again and drags him from the room.
My eyes droop shut as the pain pings through every fiber of my mind, then settles into an ache. The kind of ache you get after stirring the ammonia-vats all night. I feel light-headed but manage to pull myself up – taking the blankets
