Grace’s name fit her. Even so, this was all so odd. “Why didn’t you go to your sister or Ronan?” His blood brother would’ve called him.

Grace sat up, cradling her wrist. “They’re in Kurdistan right now, working on a diplomatic mission, and I didn’t want to bother them.” She cleared her throat, avoiding his gaze. “I can handle things on my own, Adare. My sister deserves some peace in her life.”

Peace? Ha. None of them would find peace for a very long time. “Would you have taken some blood to fix your wrist?” His suspicions were confirmed when she blushed a soft peach. “Have you taken others’ blood before?” His reaction to that notion was hot enough to burn him from within.

“No, but I saw Faith take Ronan’s blood when she broke her ankle a couple of years ago, and it healed her faster than she could heal herself. So I thought I could take just a little.”

“You were wrong. Another male’s blood would’ve probably made you sick.” Man, he’d neglected his duties here. That needed to stop and now. So he slid an arm beneath her legs, turned and twisted, sitting on the floor with her cradled in his lap and facing the fire.

“What in the world are you doing?” she gasped, her arm still safe against her ribcage.

“I’m going to help you heal your wrist, and then I’m going to teach you how to use healing cells.” Obviously.

She pushed his chest with her good hand, not moving an inch. “I don’t want your help. When are you going to realize that I’m not your responsibility? For Pete’s sake. I haven’t seen you in three years.”

Did she sound hurt about that? It was what he’d thought she wanted. Plus, he’d known where she was the entire time, and he’d been on more grueling missions than he could count, some resulting in nightmares that would haunt him forever. “Why didn’t you stay at the new Seven headquarters with your sister and Ronan? I wasn’t pleased when you left.” He kept his voice as level as he could, but the feeling of her soft buttocks against his thighs was heating him faster than the fake fire.

“I’m not concerned about pleasing you.” Even her lips were beginning to tremble from the pain.

“Let’s argue after we mend your wrist.” He forced his fangs down, sliced into the fleshy part of his palm, and instantly drew blood.

Her eyes widened and she pushed against him again. “Listen, no.”

“Yes.” Careful not to jostle her injured arm, he gripped the back of her head and pressed the side of his hand against her lips.

She shut her lips tight, and her eyes narrowed, sparks all but flying from them.