Page 59 of All's Fair in Love and Magic

I dipped my head and closed the door.

They could deal with their own shit for a little longer.

I found my phone in the kitchen and scrolled through the messages from Bailey and Harv, asking if I was involved in what happened to the vampires. When I was satisfied there was nothing new to deal with on that front, I checked in with the demons.

Everything was good with the security team, so I replied to a few messages about random resort stuff before eyeing Sage again.

She was paler than usual, and definitely still asleep.

I still wanted to heal her… but maybe food would help just as much.

Though I wanted to sit next to her on the couch, I was worried about pushing myself on her when she was barely conscious, so I didn’t.

I sent in an order for food, and satisfied my need to be closer to her by sitting on the arm of the couch while I waited for it to arrive. There was a movie playing, but my attention lingered on my mate.

On the rise and fall of her chest.

On the way her hair clung to the sides of her clammy face.

On how fucking gorgeous she was.

My entire body ached for her.

Sealing the bond was the only way to solve that.

When my phone buzzed to let me know the food had arrived, I answered the door again before going back to the couch.

I had to sit next to Sage to help her in case she was too weak to eat. That was a good enough reason to take a seat next to her, wasn’t it?

Despite my justification, I took a seat across the cushion from her.

Pushing her wasn’t necessary. I’d already taken enough liberties.

I woke her with a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes were bleary when she lifted her head, her cheeks still intensely pale.

“You need to eat,” I said.

“I’m not hungry,” she whispered.

“Eat anyway. The vampires took too much of your blood.”

Sage sighed, but lifted a hand for her box of food.

Her fingers trembled.

Her palm did, too.

I wanted to turn her down and tell her I’d be the one feeding her, but I knew the outcome of that conversation wouldn’t be what I hoped.

So I put the box on her lap, opening it up for her too.

“It’s too bad you can’t fix my blood loss like you healed my bruises in the lobby when we met,” she mumbled, struggling to hold her fork normally.

“I can,” I said.

Her eyes lifted to mine.

“I’m not sure how it would affect you,” I explained. “Probably the same way it did when I healed you on the bench.”