“I’m okay. I took a shower, and that was enough to keep me awake.”
“You should have slept.”
“I shouldn’t have taken a shower, but—” She shrugged. “—I needed one.”
“Lexi,” he whispered.
Her eyes darted to his before she looked guiltily away. He grasped her hand resting on the mattress and rubbed it with his thumb.
“You pulled me off that field; you deserve a shower,” he told her. “You deserve far more than that.”
“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
She was far too stubborn for her own good. “Have you eaten?”
“Niall had some food and coffee brought up to me.”
“Where is Niall?”
“In the hallway. I thought it was better if he stayed out there.”
“You can trust him.”
“So you said, but I’m not trusting anyone else with your life.” She lifted a bottle from the bedside table and carefully climbed onto the mattress. “I was so worried.” She uncapped the bottle and held it to his lips. “I returned as fast as I could to the manor and gathered some of Sahira’s healing potions. Drink.”
He smiled as he obeyed her command and swallowed the sweet-tasting liquid. When he finished, she set the empty bottle on the nightstand and turned back to him. Her hands were tender as they ran over his face.
Sensing her continued anxiety, he clasped her hands and pulled them away. He kissed the backs of her knuckles before placing her hands in his lap.
“I’m fine,” he assured her.
“You had a sword through your heart.”
“But fae metal can’t kill a werewolf.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes.
“Lexi,” he murmured.
A single tear slid down her cheek.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered as he brushed the tear away with his thumb.
He hated that tear. It tore into his heart more than the sword had.
“I’m not,” she sniffled before thrusting her shoulders back. “Let’s check your bandages.”
He didn’t say a word as she started to remove the wrappings. He studied her lovely face with its sun-kissed skin and smattering of freckles dotting the bridge of her nose. She’d twisted her deep auburn hair into a knot that rested against her slender nape.
Beneath the scent of his soap, her sweet, strawberry aroma drifted on the air. When he rested his hand against her cheek, her sweeping lashes rose, and her hunter green eyes, with their flecks of emerald, met his. Her rosebud lips parted.
She was so beautiful, and she was his.
Drawing her closer, he kissed her. When he deepened the kiss by running his tongue across her lips before nibbling at her bottom lip, she pulled away.
“You have to relax and heal,” she scolded.
“I’m feeling much better,” he assured her.
“Hmm,” she grunted as she rested her hands on his chest and pushed him back. “Let me take a look.”
The steely tone of her voice made him smile as she finished pulling off the bandages. He glanced at his healing wounds as she examined them. The one in his chest was still raw and red, while the one in his side was more of a pink color and nowhere near as irritated looking.
That one would mostly heal by tomorrow, and the one in his chest would be completely closed by then.
“They both look good,” she said.
“They do.”
“I’ll clean them and wrap them again.”
She washed them with tender care and pressed her hand against the hole in his chest when pink seeped out to stain the cloth. The bleeding soon stopped, and she finished dressing the wound.
As soon as she finished, he pushed aside the blankets and swung his legs out of bed. Before he could rise, she seized his arm and stepped in front of him.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Getting up,” he replied. “I’ve been in bed long enough, and the kingdom needs to see that I’m alive.”
“You can’t be serious. You were stabbed through the heart.”
“And the sooner the dark fae see me walking around after that, the more they’ll respect and follow me.”
“Cole….” Her voice trailed off as he rose from the bed.
She scrambled back and grasped his arm when he swayed a little. The blood rushed from his head, and he nearly collapsed onto the bed. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to remain standing while his healing heart raced.
He was doing a lot better, but there was a stutter in his heartbeat, and it lumbered harder than it used to. Unable to move, he stood and waited to see if he would have a heart attack. But then, the tension in it eased, and it gradually returned to normal.
Or the normal it was now as its beat was staccato at best. But it was still beating and far better than it should have been, given it had a sword through it yesterday.
Brokk had survived fae metal, he should have survived it too, and he had. But he shouldn’t be healing this fast. It had taken Brokk more time to heal, even with Sahira’s potions.
He’d always been stronger than his brothers, but this was different. This was a combination of the healing potions, finding his mate in Lexi, and the shadows he sensed all around him. The ones creeping through him now.
“Are you okay?” she demanded.
“I’m fine.”
“You should rest for at least another day.”
“I can’t.”
“Damn it, Cole.”
“There are still rebels out there to hunt down.”
“You are not going to do that today.”
“Not today, but soon.” He smiled when she stomped her foot. “I’m going to be fine.”
Her glower was her only response.
Chapter Twenty
Lexi bit her tongue as Cole slowly dressed. His hair was still damp from the shower he’d taken, and he’d trimmed his rough stubble into a neat beard along his square jaw again. She’d helped him with the buttons on his tunic, but it was all he would let her do.
He slid his feet into soft leather boots and pulled a dark red cloak around his shoulders; he pinned it at his throat with a wolf broach. When he finished, the cloak fell forward to cover most of his tunic and chest. Lastly, he slipped his father’s sword onto his back.
“You could get yourself killed,” she said.
He lifted the last bottle of healing potion, removed the stopper, and downed the contents. He set the empty bottle down and crossed the room to stand before her. Tilting her head back, she took in all of his six-foot-seven frame as he towered over her.
Even having just risen from the dead, he was gorgeous with his black hair and Persian blue eyes. The tips of his pointed ears poking out through his hair made her recall how much he enjoyed having them touched.
His broad shoulders blocked out the sun shining through the window behind him. She grasped his arms and squeezed as she tried not to think about every horrible thing that could happen to him outside this room. He would never admit it, but he was still weakened from what happened.
“You can’t return to the fight,” she said.
“Not today,” he said. “But soon. The dark fae have to see me out there now, though. They have to know I survived when no purebred dark fae would have. And the sooner they see me, the sooner they’ll know.”