Chapter 16
Sebastian
I’d been feeling off all day.
Sure, I felt off-kilter most of the time in Persy’s presence, but today was different.
Over the course of a month, she’d managed to completely destroy me.
I was pretty sure she’d made me nice. Kind, at least.
Or, as Calpurnia preferred to say, had simply given me the space for my kind tendencies to revive themselves when I wasn’t shoving them down to focus on a conspiracy I truly didn’t give a shit about.
There was absolutely no validity to the statement that time moved a bit faster when you were enjoying yourself. None. Especially not when you considered that most days prior to my grand arrival to Prometheus, the minutes had felt like they were pushing themselves through thick amber.
Most days, one might describe the feeling in my chest as rather pleasant. Calpurnia had just managed to weasel it out of me last week, and she looked so happy with her success I didn’t bother to tell her that I was pretty sure Persy already knew through sheer force of observation.
Prometheus had given me distance from the world. I loved every aspect of my power, I would be a fool to ignore that fact, but I had never been in love with the fame. It had been a product of my parents pushing me into it and then me taking on that mantle to make sure people were happy with me stepping in as the new king.
But I never loved it.
Being able to step back and just focus on the actual components of my power had made me … happier.
That was why the odd feeling in my stomach was so haunting. It wasn’t because of that poor girl at the hospital, though that had made my chest ache, enough that I forgot that I wasn’t allowed to be a protective asshole around Persy and touched her far more than was appropriate.
It had flared when Persy left the house, casting me a smile over her shoulder as she walked away. Before I knew what I was doing, I was following her. I told myself that it was just to head to the marketplace, but it was really just to trail her.
Smart, because I heard the screaming first. The second I stepped foot onto that line between the new facility and the old cells.
There was one voice—younger, probably a woman, who sounded much more panicked, yelling for help or someone to hear her. Then there was a man who was trying to calm her by shouting for her to settle down—effective, that method.
But all I knew was that the yelling was coming from the old cells of Prometheus. From where Persy was. And I couldn’t hear her.
I hadn’t seen her panicked—ever. Maybe she did scream, maybe she stayed silent. I’d venture to guess she went the route of trying to calmly assess the situation, but even then, I’d be able to hear her voice.
And then movement caught my eye. Three people—who I knew to be staff members—were running past me in a full sprint, fumbling with a collection of cleaning and first aid supplies.
I was the god of medicine. I should help.
Persy likely needed my help. I would never know—or rather, would refuse to spend any time trying to figure out—whether it was the thought of Persy harmed that made me break into a near sprint with increased urgency, following the staff.
The yelling got louder as I approached and one thing became clear. Persy definitely was not speaking. My long stride turned into a full blown run, following the hurried pace of the other employees as they tracked the screaming.
The further and further they descended into the pits of Prometheus, the more my heart rate picked up and my speed increased.
Like I said, I could spend time later sorting through the sheer terror that I felt in that moment. Or hell, I could do it now. It wasn’t that complicated.
Unfortunately, Persy had a way of making you care about her, and that had the annoying side effect of caring whether she lived or died. It didn”t matter that I would also probably care if she got a paper cut.
I could only hope she was somewhere on the paper cut end of the spectrum.
“Can someone help?!” The female voice yelled again, sounding all the more agitated.
“We’re coming!” One of the people I was trailing yelled back, before signaling to the person next to them to hurry the fuck up. By the time we were rounding the corner at the end of the hall, the rushed yelling seemed like it was on the other side of the wall.
Of course, I was right.
The second I rounded the corner, I ran into the stiff backs of those two employees. I could only imagine that they were looking at the scene in front of them with slack jaws or another shocked expression.
I didn’t have time to care, because Persy was covered in blood. She didn’t appear to be looking at anyone in particular, just staring off into space while her perfect blonde hair was stained with red.
Her face and shoulders too, with a sizable splat right in the middle of her clothing.
When she didn’t react to any of the yelling or arrival of new people, I decided I was done being subtle.
Shoving through the two in front of me, I stepped up in front of them and took in my surroundings as quick as I could, my mind already screaming at me to focus my attention back on Persy.
There was a man thrashing against the bars of his cage, the rattling sound clanging through the damp, dark hallways as loud as a cannon. “You fucking bitch!” he yelled, all his fury directed at Persy.
“Shut him up,” I barked at no one in particular. I knew Persy would probably have something to say about my tone, but she would just have to deal with it. If she wanted to yell at me herself fine. But while she was standing there, unblinking and unmoving, I got to act as I pleased. “Why the fuck is she covered in blood?”
“It’s not blood,” someone said, but I was already walking up to her. Her head didn’t move an inch, didn’t tip back in that way I’d come to crave so she’d keep eye contact with me.
“Persy, love,” I said, my voice low enough that only she could hear me. “What happened?”
This close, I could smell that it wasn’t blood on her, but some type of food. I saw a tray behind her, which meant the fucker behind bars had thrown his meal at her.
A hum built in her throat, her vocal chords warming up to answer, but no words came out.
I looked over her shoulder to someone crouched down, trying to gather the mess. “What happened?” I barked.
Their head snapped up, eyes wild with terror. “He…” their voice was shaking considerably. “He threw his meal at her and she fell. Then he grabbed her ankle and tried to pull her towards him but we stopped him.”
Fury like nothing I’d ever known blasted through my chest. I’d never personally killed someone, but I felt a solar flare building in my hand, begging to find it’s way into that fucker’s heart.
Fuck it, she could yell at me for this later. My hands came down on her shoulders, and the second our skin made contact, she jerked forward roughly.
I waited, holding my breath, for her to snap out of it and shake me off. Yell at me for touching her like this. Without her scolding me, all that jerk did was press her shoulders harder into my hands.
On instinct, my thumbs made a pass over her the curve of her shoulder, moving in towards the edge of her collarbones. I forced myself to look up and meet any one of the gawking faces staring at us. “I assume you have this handled?”
Someone who looked fairly competent nodded at me.
That was all the permission I needed. “I’m going to take her to get cleaned up. She’ll be back later.” I knew her well enough to know that the second she was back in her body, she’d be trying to go back to work.
This time, she had me to contend with. She needed a fucking break and I’d give it to her if it was the last thing I did.
I’d handled speaking to everyone around us. Now, I’d only speak to her. “Come on, love. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I waited for Persy to react. A full five seconds where I was sure my heart was about to fall through my stomach, before I had enough. I’d deal with this later.
She could scream her fucking head off at me for all I cared.
Who was I kidding, I’d probably love it.
I wound my arm around her back and tucked my hand right at her ribs, careful not to move too much to the front. In one quick motion, I bent down and tucked my other arm under her knees and hauled her into my arms.
I heard someone gasp, then the distinct sound of a hand slapping over a mouth. I had half a mind to make a sarcastic comment about it before Persy wound her arms around my neck and I almost made the exact same sound.
She tucked her forehead into my chest, moving it back and forth in two quick strokes like she was trying to burrow her way into my skin.
That was it.
I shoved my way back through the small crowd and strode out back down the hallways as quick as I could. I couldn’t use a portal in this section of Prometheus, but the second I was able, the next step we were taking was onto her front porch.
There was no way I’d embarrass her by carrying her through Prometheus.
“Woah, what the—” Nikolas yelled, coming around the corner and stopping short when he saw us.
Actually, he was one person I would be entirely content holding Persy in front of. Beautiful timing, really. Despite the fact that I would begrudgingly say that we were now friends, or the fact that I knew they weren’t dating, I still had the urge to shove this in his face.
“Good morning, Nikolas,” I said coolly, not stopping my stride. Persy didn’t move an inch, which I was choosing to believe meant she didn’t prefer Nikolas over me in this situation.
She really was smart.
Nikolas sputtered from behind me, turning on his heel and running to catch my stride. “Persy, are you okay?” he asked, jumping up as he spoke to try to catch her eyes. I didn’t even have to dip my chin to know that they were closed.
Persy’s only answer was to tighten her hold around my neck. I wasn’t sure Nikolas could even see that she’d done it, but I was too busy lighting off fireworks in my head to give a damn.
“She’s fine,” I responded for her, never stopping my pursuit towards the outdoors. Only another stretch of hallway to go, which with my legs, meant seconds. Nikolas could try to keep up. He was about Persy’s height, but luckily, that still meant shorter than me.
“What happened?” There was real concern in his voice, which I begrudgingly had to respect. I understood the fear.
“A prisoner threw his lunch at her, then tried to drag her into his cell with him.” Even that simple explanation ignited a rather painful fury in my chest.
“Shit,” Nikolas cursed, trying and failing to jump up and glimpse Persy’s face. I didn’t want him anywhere near her in this state—their friendship be damned.
“They could probably use a bit of help back there,” I said, jerking my chin back down the hallway.
Nikolas blinked rapidly, remembering his responsibility. “Right. I’ll go help. Go help Persy.” I nodded stiffly, ready to do just that before he had to go ahead and add, “Thank you.”
This time, the thank you didn’t grate as hard. I was doing something purely selfish.
The only thing Nikolas was getting from me in response was a low, non-committal grunt. It seemed to work on him, because with one last look in Persy’s direction, he took off down the hall.
“Almost there, love,” I said when I spied the final door out to freedom. My thumb was still coasting over her shoulder, and there was something disconnected between my brain and my body because even though I kept telling myself to fucking stop it, my thumb kept making those soothing passes.
Persy didn’t seem to mind. If she wasn’t so silent and shocked, I’d even say she was tolerating it. As if in answer, another vague hum built in her chest, the warmth vibrating from her chest and lancing me like the bitter cold.
One might argue that I had started running by those final few feet. Regardless, I made it to the edge of the old cells, out into the sun, and my next step landed on Persy’s doorstep.
Somewhere in my last few steps, I’d started speaking softly to her, telling her what was about to happen next. “We’re here,” was the next thing I said, moving to set her down.
She held on like a spider-monkey.
I released her entirely, letting her weight drop to see how committed to holding on she was, and apparently that resolve was strong as steel. Even with my hands almost floating in the air, she stayed curled against my chest, her arms wound tight around my neck.
I didn’t have any time to think about the type of strength that took—both on the part of my neck and her arms—before my hands came around her again. If she wasn’t going to let go, I sure as shit wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to steal precious moments of her skin pressed against mine.
More small sins I’d have to repent for in the future.
Not now, though. Now, I got to pull Persy closer, transferring weight into one arm and feel her wind tighter against me so that I could open the door.
Something shifted once I got her inside. I could feel her body relax, her muscles releasing just an inch of tension. This close, I could feel the individual tendons flex and relax under my fingers.
“Do you want me to set you down, love?” I asked, bending down in search of her eyes. Her lashes were fluttering in a way that made my muscles feel weak and warm.
Persy breathed in deep, her exhale hot against my pectoral. It registered as hot as dragon fire. I held her, waiting for a response, before she answered seconds later. “I’m covered in food. My ankle hurts.”
The hoarseness in her voice made my knees feel weak. “Tell me what to do.”
Another ragged breath warmed the skin on my chest. “Bathroom, please.”
Even this distraught, Persy was atrociously well-mannered. She’d probably thank me the second I walked in the bathroom.
As I headed there, I turned sideways through the hallway to protect her feet and head. I was so singularly focused on getting her where she’d asked that it didn’t register until I was a stride away from her en suite bathroom that I was standing in the middle of her room.
Shit.
Too much hit me at once. I had a general idea of what her room looked like, formed from stolen glances over her shoulder as she was walking in her room, tossing a goodnight at me in a soft voice.
But seeing it up close, in full color, made me … well, something close to angry. What else did you call the hardened set of my jaw, the blood pumping through my limbs with greater force, the feeling that my heart was beating at a pace I couldn’t sustain.
Her bed was large, positioned in the center of the room and covered in a mass of colorful pillows that struck that precious balance between bright and cohesive. The desk, side tables, and small stool next to a plush couch were all the same color of dark wood.
Every other decoration looked singular—no things the same, even the lamps.
I could have spent hours cataloging every inch of her room, trying to commit it to memory and storing it away until it inevitably came out on canvas. Persy stirred against my chest, pulling my attention back to her.
Her bathroom was nestled in the back corner, full of white marble cut with violet and gray streaks and sparkling silver metal. Persy didn’t seem to be even remotely concerned with letting go of me, forcing me to scan the room for a place to try and set her down.
The countertop of the sink was too high—and conjured up an image I simply could not dedicate any thought to.
The small stool under her vanity was covered in a plush layer of fabric that would be ruined by the food staining Persy’s skin.
Lip of the bathtub it was.
I moved with as much care as possible, gently bending down and resting Persy on the curved edge of her large, claw foot tub. I hated that I knew her well enough to guess that she’d had the tub specially designed to fit her long limbs comfortably.
I leaned behind her, turning on the shower head and adjusting the temperature to a comforting warmth. It was only then, with the sound of the water hitting the base of the tub like rain pattering down on the roof of her house, did the life start to return to Persy’s limbs.
The second I felt her breath pull in deeper stretches, I sank to my knees in front of her, seeking out her eyes.
Her head was bent, her gaze somewhere close to the base of my throat, cemented there. “It’ll help if you clean up,” I said, hoping my voice would draw her attention.
When she didn’t respond, I moved my hands up to her face, carefully tracing the perimeter. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she leaned ever so slightly into my touch or if it was because I was a selfish bastard to my core, but before I knew it, my hands were cradling the back of her head and stinging from the feeling of her hair slipping over my skin.
I used my thumb to nudge her chin up, making her look at me. It was only then that Persy nodded, though it was really just a small dip of her chin. “Okay.”
“How are you—” The rest of my sentence was lost in my throat, because Persy was touching me.
She’d wrapped her hands around my wrists, her fingertips pressing down on either side of the tendon running down the middle of my forearm.
And it was burning. Fuck, was it burning. Hotter than the sun.
I clamped down on the desire to move and focused back on what was important. This was just the start of a long practice in self-restraint around her. I couldn’t stop how violently her touch affected me, but I could control whether or not she knew it.
I swallowed roughly, clearing my throat. Persy’s eyes moved back down, tracking the movement. “Are you okay?”
The only reason I felt Persy shake her head no was because I was still holding her. Shit, I didn’t think I’d ever seen her like this. Completely out of her body.
My thumb made a pass over her cheek before I could stop it. “A bath will make you feel better.”
Persy’s eyelashes fluttered, her eyebrows pinching together. Whether or not she was actually in pain didn’t matter. My chest was already cracking open at that expression.
“Tell me how to help.” It was a rough command, the words scraping my throat.
Persy shook her head again, harder this time, her cheeks pressing into my palms. “I’m just…” she breathed in, the crease between her brows growing deeper. You have no right to smooth that line, I had to forcefully remind myself. “Tired,” she finished on a heavy exhale.
“Alright.” She didn’t need to explain further. It didn’t take a genius to know that she was shouldering heavy responsibility and was still figuring out how and when to ask for help.
Fucking hell, therapy was rubbing off on me.
I lifted one of my hands off the face of the little devil who’d come up with that brand of torture and leaned close to feel the water temperature. Warm, but not hot.
Flicking off the water then dragging my hand down my face, I rocked back on my heels to stand. “The water’s warm, love. Take a bath. I can make you food.”
I never made it past a low crouch. Persy’s hands tightened on my wrists, holding me in place.
She didn’t think … she couldn’t want me to— “Persephone…”
Her answer broke off in her throat on a whimper. Shit.
“You shouldn’t ask me to stay,” I said, feeling my hand tighten around the back of her head as I spoke.
“Please.” The word was so small whatever was left of my heart snapped in half. “I can’t—”
She cut herself off, but if she hadn’t, I would have stopped her myself. Against my better judgment, I couldn’t bear to see her in pain like that.
“Fine,” I half cursed. This would be a fucking mess, but I had the distinct feeling I’d do anything she asked if it brought the life back into her eyes. “I’m gonna lift you up,” I told her as I stood into a half-crouch so that I could lift her into the tub.
She held on tight as I did, even though I’d walk myself right into Tartarus before I ever dropped her. She just didn’t know it.
I spent several minutes trying to figure out a way to get her clean with her clothes on. I would lose my goddamn mind if I was in the same room as her while she was naked. It was bad enough knowing she was on the other side of a wall, changing in her closet or undressing to shower.
Fuck.
The reminder of that fact just made this situation so much more wrong. I was the villain in her world and she’d placed her trust in my hands.
Those very hands moved up to the handle of the shower head. The second the spray moved over the bottom of Persy’s skirt and the wet fabric plastered onto her legs, she shrunk away with a low, “Stop.”
I froze.
And then I was freezing for an entirely different reason, because Persy was taking off her clothes.
“Shit, Persy,” I said, turning away from her. Seeing her fingers push just the top button of her sweater open was too far.
“I need these clothes off me,” she said, her voice sounding dazed. “They’re covered in food and he … he was yelling at me and saying all the ways that he was going to hurt me while he was dragging me towards him and I know that’s not true but I think—I think I can still smell his breath and he reeked of blood and I can’t get it off me and it’s—”
Something went splat on the floor and I closed my eyes even tighter. Having to hear her move was probably worse. Because every slip and slide of her skin sounded as loud as cannon booms in my ears.
She could ask me to leave. I could volunteer to.
Neither happened because after another smack of wet clothing hitting the floor, Persy started to struggle against something.
“What is—”
The rest of my question was cut off my a muffled grumble from Persy. My eyes snapped open on instinct—and good thing they did. Persy was damn near suffocating herself with a thin white tank top.
It was tangled in her hair and the whole mess of fabric and white-blonde hair was stained pink with something that smelled an awful lot like tomatoes. “Love, don’t … wait just a second … if you just—”
And then I was helping her. My hands were lightly knocking hers out of the way as I took over the job of peeling the tank top off her.
I stayed pointedly behind her, making sure the only thing in my line of sight was the top of her head or the swell of her knees where they were pressed tightly to her chest.
Who the fuck was I kidding?
Seeing her bare shoulders was enough to make me feel like my stomach was turning in on itself, it was pulling so tight. Even looking at the way her shoulder blades pressed against her skin, widened and flat as she hugged her knees, was too much.
I moved the spray over her back, watching as her hair absorbed the water and sent a stream of pink down the white porcelain of the tub. My own clothes were soaked, so much so that I could see my tattoos through the fabric of shirt.
Fuck it.
If Persy could be exposed like this in front of me, I could do the same in front of her. Keeping the spray on her in a comforting wash of water, I quickly unbuttoned my shirt and shucked it off, throwing it into the pile of clothes Persy had created.
The second the fabric hit the floor, Persy looked at me over her shoulder. She gasped sharply, and there was a moment where I felt embarrassment warm my chest.
She’d eventually get me to admit that those tattoos were one of my greatest regrets in life, so it was only logical to admit it to myself first.
But then I realized she was actually staring at my chest.
An entirely different type of warmth shoved away the embarrassment. No, no this was not okay.
I knew what I looked like. Appreciation was fine but it could go no further than that. I would sooner destroy every painting I’d ever done than cross that line with her.
Not because I didn’t want to, thoughts where that was concerned were on my mind more often than not, but because I would never taint anything she was working towards with me by crossing that boundary.
I forced myself to focus back on Persy. On trying to get the food off her hair and her face. Moving the shower head into one hand, I tried to untangle her hair from her necklace.
It was getting stuck, pulling enough that it risked a few of the strands breaking. Well, that wasn’t fucking happening. Not on my watch.
“I need to take your necklace off,” I said, hating myself just a little bit. I should have asked her to take it off herself. But she moved her hair out of the way, exposing more of her bare back.
I begged for help from the Fates, the Oracle, and every Apollo in history.
I unclasped the delicate gold chain easily, looking around for a place to put it safely. Her bath was isolated, nothing really around it.
With a groan, I quickly looped it around my wrist and re-did the clasp. Persy was looking at me with a new expression on her face, something I couldn’t quite gauge from my position.
I was staying firmly behind her. No fucking way was I moving in any way that would give me a better view of her front.
“Hair next,” I said, my voice more gentle than I’d ever used. Maybe it was the shock, the utter disbelief that she was letting me see her like this. Touch her like this.
Persy nodded, her lips fighting to curve into a smile, though her eyes told me everything I needed to know about her mental state. If I could chase away that sadness, I would feel more accomplished than any other moment in my life.
“In the shower,” she said, her voice still scratchy and hoarse. Okay, that was an invitation. Fuck. Fuck.
I stood, turning and telling myself to get it the fuck together. There was no room for any sort of physical reaction on my part right now.
Her shower was huge, with a bench on one end and more knobs than any normal person probably had. I was going to have bad, bad thoughts about that shower.
Once I had her shampoo and conditioner in hand, along with a body wash that smelled sweet enough to chase away the acidic stench of food, I walked back to the tub.
Persy was shaking. That wouldn’t do.
I knelt back down, intending to ask her what was wrong, but my hand had a mind of its own. Before I could stop it, my left hand reached up to cradle the back of her head.
The shaking stopped.
Oh, absolutely the fuck not. If she thought I was the one who could steady her that was so, so dangerous. I wasn’t even—
My brain kicked in a second too late, my thoughts getting a little ahead of me.
It was my power, obviously. Some combination of the sun’s warmth and the power of healing that made her stop shaking.
I was just a hopeful asshole.
Pushing through the little flicker of disappointment curling in my chest, I pumped some shampoo into my hands. “Is it okay if I—”
“Please.”
There were suds working into her scalp a second later. I blacked out. As in completely lost myself from the moment my hands touched her head until the moment warm water was rinsing conditioner out of her hair.
There was life back in Persy’s face, though. Thank the Fates.
“Are you feeling better?” I asked as I worked a rag over her shoulders to carefully get the stain of something red out of her skin.
Persy nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s not an appropriate answer to what I asked,” I said. There would be no apologies from her for this.
Persy smiled, a real one, that made me feel like the sun had just broken through one of the windows. “I’m really trying not to be embarrassed about this.”
“Don’t,” I said, my tone bordering on too harsh, but there was no world in which I would accept that this was a bad thing to do. Yes, she was naked but the bath had filled up and there was soap bubbling on the surface.
I was showing more skin, my chest and arms fully exposed.
“Thank you,” she said softly, and I was pretty sure my heart broke.
“What happened?” I asked. She knew I wasn’t asking about the logistics. I was asking about her.
She sighed deeply, her shoulders dropping an inch as she hugged her knees tighter to her chest. “I think it just caught me off guard. Normally, I can prepare myself to deal with people like him, but I was…”
“You were what?” I prodded, smoothing the washcloth down her back, the smell of her soap embedding itself in my memory. I’d recognized the scent, but now it was assaulting me.
“I was having a really good day,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
She’d spent every second since waking with me. I couldn’t allow myself to read into that in the slightest.
“I hope he is going to rot in that cell for the rest of his life.” If I didn’t kill him myself for hurting her, that was the next best thing. Actually, that didn’t sound like a bad plan. Maybe if I killed him, I’d have to stay—
“He is,” Persy said, her voice sad, like she hated that was the outcome. “This wasn’t a mistake. This is who he is.”
I hummed in response, my skin growing slightly uncomfortable. Particularly the skin that housed those horrible tattoos.
I thought I was hallucinating Persy’s hand pressing into my forearm, because that was only the type of thing that happened in my imagination.
But no, no, there was a soft, delicate hand on my forearm, and it belonged to her. “Whenever you’re ready, I’d like to hear about this mistake.”
Fuck, I could have kissed her for phrasing it like that. I wanted to.
She wasn’t shying away from the fact that it was wrong, but she’d given me the grace to view it as a mistake. It was that kindness that had me breathing in and saying, “Each one represents ten tattoos given.”
I had over thirty rings circling my arms, and if you counted the members of my family that were involved, I’d have more.
Persy’s finger ran over the curve of one of them, and she was seemingly unaware that she’d done it. “Do you wish they were gone?”
I raised my free arm, twisting my palm as I looked at the tattoos. “No.” I was somewhat shocked by my answer. “It’s a good reminder.”
“Of what?”
“Of a mistake.” It was the first time I’d admitted out loud, how much I regretted what I’d done.
“Is it odd to say they suit you?” Persy said, a small smile on her lips. “Not the meaning behind them, but the tattoos themselves don’t look bad.”
This was only the second time she’d alluded to something about me looking good. Yes, I kept track.
It felt as good as it did the first time.
“It’s not odd,” I said, finally smiling. The events of the past hour made me never want to smile again.
Right then, Persy’s blinks started to slow. The adrenaline in her limbs was fleeing quickly, meaning she was about to go headfirst into a crash. She’d need to sleep. Rest.
I found a plush towel resting on the marble next to her sink and brought it over to her. I extended it in one hand, covering my eyes with the other.
Persy laughed softly, and the sound went right to my groin. Fuck.
I was so busy trying to control myself, I almost missed her pained whimper. My eyes shot open immediately, and thank the Fates, she’d wrapped the towel around herself.
“What is it?” I said, placing my hands on her waist to steady her.
“My ankle,” she said, wincing. “I think it might be sprained.”
Before she could tell me not to, I scooped her up again, far too delighted by her shocked gasp. “That I can help with.”
Persy made me put her down, agreeing to let me steady her with a hand with my eyes closed as she changed. I picked her back up to carry her to bed, laying her down gently and forcing myself not to memorize this image.
I healed her ankle quickly, my hands buzzing with power and the feel of her skin under mine. Within seconds, she was out, fast asleep and finally at rest.
I sat down in the chair next to her bed and didn’t move until morning, until I was sure she wouldn’t dream about what had happened.
That was a pain I knew far too well.