Trapped somewhere within Cleo’s powerful vernal magic, Rosalind’s mind screamed save him.

She walked closer. Ignoring the pain that wracked her body, she knelt down, her blood pooling on the floor and mingling with Josiah’s.

Cleo pulled the stake from his chest. Caine gasped, his back arching with the pain. Still conscious. She lay next to him, stroking her hand over his chest, and pressed her mouth to his. His perfect lips parted, warm and soft, and he kissed her deeply. Hungrily, he drank in her energy, and his arm tightened around her back. At his intensifying touch, heat shot through her body.

The incubus’s aura strengthened deliciously, swirling through her belly, caressing her skin. He pulled her on top of him, the kiss energizing him.

She had no idea who she was, or where she was, only that she wanted more of him.

She nearly gasped when he pulled away, looking into her eyes, searching.

“You’re Cleo, aren’t you?”

Cleo needed his mouth on hers, and moved closer to kiss him again, but he held her at bay, staring at the blood streaming from her shoulder. “You’re hurt. I need to get you out of here. Say the spell with me, Cleo. Rosalind will die if I don’t heal her.”

He reached out, snatching the iron ring from the floor before he returned to her. Wrapping his arms around her, he chanted a spell for teleportation, and she joined in, their auras mingling together with an intense, euphoric power.

Chapter 33

In the celestial room, Caine carried Rosalind across the room. Thick, starry curtains blocked out all the sunlight, and candlelight danced over the room.

Caine gently lowered Rosalind to the bed, propping her up on the pillows. With the iron ring back on her finger, she gripped her shoulder, no longer able to block out the agony.

Excruciating pain blazed through her stomach and collarbone, and blood poured from her wounds.

She heaved a sigh of relief as she heard Aurora and Tammi’s conversation pierce the walls from the next room. Thank the gods—they’re safe.

Caine pulled off her jacket, and the pain took her breath away as she moved. “I need to heal you—now. You’re losing a lot of blood.” He ripped the front of her shirt open, unable to hide the fear flickering across his features when he saw her stomach.

“Miranda ran off,” Rosalind said, her mind twisting with confusion. The blood loss made her dizzy, almost as if she could feel her heart rate growing fainter. “She thought Josiah was her protection.”

“Don’t worry about that now.” Caine traced his fingertips around the wound, then closed his eyes, chanting in Angelic. His aura whispered over her skin. It pulsed through her body, slowly drawing the pain out of the wound.

She took a slow, shuddering breath. “What happened to Malphus?”

“I handed him over to Aurora before I went looking for you. I was nearly too late.” He scanned her body. “You need to take off your pants.”