“What?” I slapped my hand against his chest. “You put me down right now. Are you kidding me?”

Cormac kept walking toward the Hive ship.

“No. Put. Me. Down.”

He stopped but did not release me. Instead, he tightened his arms around me and lowered his head until our helmets connected. “I need you close, Abby. I need you safe in my arms.”

Sweet. It really was, but I was a practical girl in all the ways that counted. “And I need to take care of you. You are injured and in pain.”

“The pain is nothing.”

“Not to me,” I whispered. “Now, mate, please put me down and give me that green wand so I can stop worrying about you bleeding to death or getting rabies or something.”

“What is rabies?”

“Nevermind. Just…please.”

Cormac lowered me to the ground, and I stood before him with my hand out until he dug around in his suit and produced the healing gadget. He activated it somehow and gave it to me.

“Thank you. Now, sit. Or lay down. I don’t care, but I’m using this thing all over you, and I can’t reach your head.”

My mate went down on one knee like a knight from Camelot and bowed his head so I could reach everywhere.

I moved as slowly as I dared, starting with the nasty furrowed slices on his shoulders and upper arms. Once the wand flashed a different color—which I assumed meant it was done doing whatever it needed to do—I started at the top of his head and covered every inch of him. He was mine, too. I didn’t care if he was covered in blood and gore, as long as none of it was his.

His breathing slowed as I worked, and I took that as a good sign until he suddenly reached out and pulled me to him, his head resting dead center in my chest. He stayed there like a little boy who needed comfort, his arms locked around me until one of the Atlans yelled that the ship was ready and it was time to go.

Cormac stood, and I gave him a quick, tight squeeze around his waist before turning to yell at the first Atlan I saw.

“Stryck, come here, please.”

The Atlan, still in beast mode, moved with shocking fluidity to stand a few paces in front of me. I looked him over from head to toe. Yep. Covered in blood and guts and god only knew how much of it was his.

“Have a seat, big guy. And hold out those hands.” He’d spent who knows how long pounding at his prison cell. I imagined every bone in his hand must have been broken dozens of times.