Chapter Six
“Stay where you are,” he commanded. Then, he flushed a little and cleared his throat before speaking again. “I’m not sure how badly you are injured. Let me check you over before you move.”
Lana should have told him that she was fine, but simply nodded instead since she was incapable of speech at the moment. Her words were trapped somewhere in her throat between the frantic pounding of her heart and the whirlwind of thoughts racing through her mind.
The male crouching next to her was enormous.
Like a hulking beast, he possessed the kind of size and strength that should have been intimidating.
Despite the drab gray uniform he wore, every inch of him radiated raw power.
Broad shoulders stretched the seams of the worn clothing, and his thick muscles hinted at a lifetime of hard labor and battle.
His black hair was shorn close to his head, practical and severe, leaving nothing to distract attention away from the hard planes and raw masculinity of his spectacular face. His eyes were a striking shade of bronze, resembling ancient coins forged in fire and tempered by time.
A faint scar curved along the side of his neck, disappearing beneath the worn collar of his uniform shirt.
The pale line stood out against his naturally golden skin and looked suspiciously like a blade had once been drawn across his throat.
Thankfully, that attempt had failed, and whoever had tried to take his life probably hadn’t lived long enough to regret it.
A touch of color stained his cheeks, the faint blush softening features that were otherwise unyielding and carved in stone. The sight was unexpectedly endearing. It should have looked out of place on such a formidable male, but somehow, it only enhanced his appeal.
His voice was a deep, gravelly growl of sound.
It vibrated through her like the rumble of thunder and carried the roughness of disuse.
It was as though he wasn’t accustomed to conversation and spent most of his time remaining silent.
That made sense considering where he was living.
There was a dark, dangerous edge to him that would have sent any sensible person running in the opposite direction.
But she wasn’t afraid.
That realization startled her almost as much as his sudden appearance had.
Lana had woken a few minutes ago, but hearing the conversation between the three unknown males had forced her to pretend that she was still unconscious.
Survival instinct had taken over, warning her to stay still, stay quiet while she healed her injuries.
Fortunately, the markings on her arms gave her access to her magic, but healing required time, something she had precious little of.
Healing herself was something she excelled at.
Not because she spent her days training recklessly or throwing herself into danger, but because she despised discomfort in all its forms. Pain irritated her.
Bruises annoyed her. Even the smallest cut felt like an insult she refused to tolerate for longer than necessary.
Because of that, healing magic had been one of the very first disciplines she’d mastered, and she had perfected it with an almost obsessive dedication.
After years of practice, mending flesh and easing pain was as natural to her as breathing.
She could knit torn skin together in seconds and soothe aching muscles before most people could even process the injury.
But forcing broken bones back into place and fixing internal injuries was a lot more difficult and time-consuming.
She’d managed to create a protection bubble around herself right before she hit the ground, but the impact had still been forceful enough to hit her head and break her arm.
She had only been knocked out briefly since the pain flooding through her had woken her.
Once she regained consciousness, she had lain there without moving, forcing each breath to remain shallow and steady as she tried to control the terror, anger, and pain swirling within her.
Using warm pulses of healing magic, she mended the broken bone in her arm and dulled the throbbing pain until it slowly faded into nothing.
Relief settled through her, calming and familiar.
However, accomplishing it without making a sound or giving any indication of what she was doing was akin to torture.
While the males had continued to blather on, she carefully fixed some other minor internal damage and sore muscles.
The process was painstaking and draining.
It was a delicate balancing act using just enough power to fix the worst of the damage without drawing attention to herself.
She also had to avoid healing any of the external cuts and bruises while there were witnesses close by.
By the time she had recovered enough to defend herself, there was no need.
Her knight in prison gray had stepped in and handled the matter for her.
The relief she’d felt at his arrival had been immense, but that had shifted into shock once she’d opened her eyes and watched him annihilate the other males in a few seconds.
She had witnessed her share of fights, but she’d never realized just how restrained people were when they were sparring.
Fighting to win was one thing, but what she was witnessing was completely different.
His only goal was to kill.
Being in the presence of the others had filled her with dread and sent cold waves of terror coursing through her.
She’d felt trapped, vulnerable, but the instant this newcomer had appeared, something inside her had shifted.
The fear hadn’t vanished completely, but the suffocating panic that had threatened to overwhelm her definitely eased.
Being near him caused an unexpected sense of relief to surge through her.
It was as though she’d been holding her breath without realizing it, and his appearance allowed her to finally inhale again.
Nothing about him should have made her feel that way.
If anything, his sheer size should have made him the most frightening male in the hallway.
The way he had destroyed the others with his bare hands should have terrified her.
He was a killer, and yet, despite every logical reason to fear him, she didn’t.
In fact, there was something about him that made her feel safe.
It made no sense, or it hadn’t until she realized who he was to her.
The moment he touched her cheek, she knew.
He was so much more than just her savior.
Mordecai Masters was her mate, her destined partner, and the only male she would ever love.
And he was a prisoner.
That was obviously an issue they were going to have to discuss at some point, but it wasn’t her most pressing concern at the moment.
The most urgent matter was some sort of explosion had just damaged the most secure prison within the six realms. That was something that should have been impossible, but the evidence was scattered all over the floor around them.
Now, the protection wards were failing, and that meant they were in a world of shit.
She might not fear her mate, but she was definitely terrified of all the other prisoners who might be roaming around now that the wards were weakening.
At least her injuries were healed, and she could move without pain.
She needed to stop admiring her mate long enough for her brain to start working properly and figure out what to do next.
But bloody hell, he really was kind of magnificent to look at.
When he reached for her hand, she instinctively pulled away before he could touch her. “Wait—”
“Don’t worry, princess,” he sneered. “You won’t get dirty just from me touching you.”
She’d obviously hurt him.
He had taken her reaction as rejection, and judging by the way he’d immediately withdrawn behind anger and sharp words, the misunderstanding had cut deeper than he wanted to admit.
He reminded her of a wounded animal, lashing out because exposing how he really felt was too dangerous.
He was simply protecting himself from a perceived insult, and she couldn’t blame him for that.
Not when he had been hurt and betrayed in the past.
But that wasn’t what she had meant at all.
She wasn’t rejecting him. It wasn’t fear of him or disgust that made her act that way.
It was a basic survival instinct.
Avoiding touch was second nature to her.
It was a habit woven deeply into her subconscious.
She had spent so much of her life avoiding people that the response was now automatic.
Years of conditioning couldn’t be discarded in a single moment.
Even knowing he had only intended to check her for injuries hadn’t been enough to stop that reflex.
She reacted before her mind even had a chance to catch up, her body recoiling automatically.
And now he believed she didn’t want him near her.
Nothing could have been further from the truth.
Trying to make him understand that would be nearly impossible, though.
Despite her need to soothe him, she knew that any pleas she made were just bound to piss him off.
He didn’t know her yet, and he had no reason to trust her.
So, she wouldn’t ask him to. Especially when her best defense would make him angry, since it already proved she had invaded his privacy.
She hadn’t meant for it to happen. Actually, it wasn’t even her fault, but she knew that distinction wouldn’t matter to him.
Explanations rarely did when her ability was involved.
The moment he’d reached out and touched her cheek, her ability had flared to life.
There was no warning, no chance to pull away before her gift had surged forward on its own.