For a second, he just stared—perhaps he’d realised the same thing about this situation—then he blinked and nodded. “Do you mind if I…?” He pointed at the bandages.

“Mmm-hmm.”

He stepped into her space, just as she’d done to him during the weapons check, and again his scent touched her nostrils—soap, worn leather, and cinnamon.

She had to stop that—his smell wasn’t important. His closeness wasn’t important. He was only doing this to heal her with his gift. That was all.

She held her breath as he unwrapped the bandages. A low growl sounded from his throat as the layers grew redder.

Closing her eyes, she braced a hand on his shoulder as he peeled the last layer from the wound. As careful as he was, her stomach roiled with the tugging motion and spreading pain.

“Sorry,” he murmured, then ducked to look more closely. “Wild Hunt take you, Vee—this is far worse than you let on.” Scowling, he shook his head. “You’ve eaten since the battle, yes?”

Teeth gritted, she nodded. If she opened her mouth, she’d only end up whimpering, and no way would she make such a pathetic sound.

“Good. My gift will consume some of your energy as well as mine. Now, this will hurt a bit, but then it’ll be gone—I promise.”

“Just hurry up.” With the bandage freshly peeled away, the wound throbbed, making her knees weak.

His warm palm pressed over the streak of red, lighting up the pain, and she gasped, fingers knotting into the hem of her shirt. But it was bearable.

He closed his eyes, a frown of concentration lining his brow.

A warm, golden glow lit up his hand, glistening off the cave walls. It sparkled and refracted from floor to ceiling, glittering and throwing flashes of light onto the pool’s surface. The sight distracted her for a few seconds before agony lanced through her torso.

She flinched, but his free hand caught her waist, holding her in place.

“Wild Hunt damn you, bloody bastard, you—”

She clamped a hand over her mouth, gritting her teeth.

A thousand hot needles jabbed through her flesh, and a moan still escaped her grip, echoing around the cavern.

Closing her eyes, she bit on her knuckles and held her breath. It couldn’t go on much longer. It would be over soon.

But the needles lit up fresh pain, as bright and pinpointed as the glittering walls, for one, two, three seconds … Four … Sweat beaded her brow … Five … Deeper darkness pushed at her …

Then it faded, and warmth bloomed in its place, as welcome and glorious as the sun on a wintry Albionic day. Sighing, she sagged, catching herself on his shoulder.

Then the warmth, too, faded, leaving just his hot skin upon hers.