Chapter 25 Chapter 25
LENORE
When was I going to get out of this city?
Three attempts on it in less than a week was absolutely not normal. In fact, calling it not normal was a severe understatement. I felt like I had to sign up for something, and no, I wasn’t talking about therapy.
Heaving a sigh, I secured my towel around my chest before swiping my hand over the foggy mirror, taking in my appearance—the old bruises around my neck, the new bruises on my left wrist which I was pretty sure was broken, and the cut on my right arm. I should have probably waited for the doctor Killian called to arrive and take a look at me before I hopped into the shower, especially with how bad my new injuries hurt, but I’d had blood all over me—even in my hair—from my interaction with Killian.
Blood trickled out of the cut on my arm as I moved it and I groaned before rinsing it in the sink. I’d love to apply something—anything—to it before the doctor arrived, but Killian had no need for a first-aid kit, so there wasn’t one in his room.
Once the tap was off, I changed into the fresh clothes I'd brought with me to the bathroom, but a knock on the door interrupted me just as I started towel-drying my hair. I instinctively knew who was on the other side of it without opening the door or asking who it was. Pressing my lips together, I walked over to the door and stared at it in silence for a couple of seconds, our interaction in the hallway earlier and the kiss from yesterday replaying in my mind, before I unlocked it.
Killian no longer looked like he was starving. The color had returned to his face and he wasn’t unsteady on his feet. He’d also changed out of his bloody clothes and cleaned himself up.
“Hey,” he muttered while my eyes drifted to his chest where his shirt clung to him like a second skin, my gaze lingering on every line the material traced. Then his chest began to move closer and it took me a moment to realize he was closing the distance between us.
My gaze snapped back to his as he came to a stop, his hand reaching up to gently brush across my neck. He ground his jaw.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, guilt washing over his face, and I pressed my lips together. He was referring to the bruises.
“Not so much. I—Is the doctor here?”
He shook his head and raised his other hand which held a first-aid kit. “They’re all swamped with treating casualties from the rogue attack, so I’ll help you instead.” His hand moved from my neck to my waist and we held each other’s gaze as he backed me against the counter before lifting me up and placing me on it. The first-aid kit was placed next to me while he stepped into the space between my thighs.
The air in the room suddenly felt thin, making every breath feel shallow.
“I’ll get you a personal doctor in the morning, but I hope you’ll never require their services,” Killian continued, opening the first-aid kit and pulling out the things he needed before he began to tend to my wounds. “...Forgive me for endangering you earlier,” he said and I raised my brows. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”
“You didn’t endanger me.”
“I should have gone somewhere else. I could have hurt you.”
“But you didn’t,” I quickly replied, tilting my head to catch his gaze, and he paused to stare at me. “It’s fine”
He nodded tightly and resumed tending to me, not speaking again until he was done about two minutes later. “Why did you offer to let me drink from you?”
“Uh, you were thirsty.”
A line appeared between his brows as he stared at me intently, like he was trying to read my mind. “Yes, but why?” he insisted, and I shifted, averting my gaze for a moment.
“I don’t know.”
He fell silent again and I could practically hear the gears turning in his head before his gaze dropped to my mouth. A muscle in his jaw twitched. Then he pulled a small container out of his pocket, opened it, took out one of the pills in it and held it out to me. The intent was obviously for me to swallow it, so I opened my mouth. Realizing I should have reached out to take it instead, heat rushed to my face, but before I could pull back, he placed the pill on my tongue.
His thumb swiped across my bottom lip as he gently guided my mouth shut, and my heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Oh my God. The pill in my mouth suddenly melted, flooding my mouth with a sweet, floral taste, and my brows snapped together.
“What’s—” I sucked in a sharp breath as an odd sensation rushed through my body, from my head to the tips of my toes. “Oh!”
The corner of Killian’s mouth curved up as he watched me.
A cool, tingling vibration settled first in my throat, and the slight ache caused by the bruise there vanished. The sensation slid down to my right arm, finding the cut there, and I felt the skin knit itself back together and tighten. Then it moved to my left wrist and fixed the wound there too.
“This is…” I’d never seen anything like it before. My injuries had simply evaporated within seconds. “Then why did you bother treating my wounds?”
“I just wanted an excuse to touch you,” he said, moving his thumb from my lips to the side of my face, and I stiffened.
What?
I’d been dancing around whatever it was I felt for him all day, and now he just came out and said that. I knew he oddly cared about me to some degree, but did he…
“Your Highness—”
“Call me by my name.” He moved even closer until there was no space between him and the counter, placing his other hand on my thigh, and my pulse skipped.
“I can't.”
“You did. Earlier,” he reminded me and I bit my bottom lip, drawing his attention back to it.
“A slip of the tongue.”
“Let it slip again.”
A prickle of heat made its way down my spine. “Your Highness—”
Whatever I’d been about to say flew out of my mind as his mouth crashed against mine.