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“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Theon looked at Luka, not knowing what else to do.

“Tessa, do you need one of us to carry you?” Luka asked, getting up and taking a tentative step forward.

“No,” she answered.

“Do you need us to help you up?”

“No.”

But she made no move to stand on her own.

Theon pushed to his feet, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Tessa, you either need to get to your feet, or I’m going to have to entrance you.”

“Don’t,” she said. It was stoic and calm, but her mannerisms were anything but as she clawed at the wall she was pressed against, clamoring to her feet.

“Tessa, you don’t have shoes on. At least let me carry you up the stairs,” he tried.

“No.”

“You’ll cut your feet up with all this glass. Look at your hands.”

She lifted them before her face, turning them over as she studied them in the faint light. “I’m bleeding.”

“I know, beautiful.”

She was quiet, continuing to study her hands in the low light of the dragon fire. “You made me bleed,” she murmured.

“I’m going to carry you up the stairs. As soon as we reach the top, I’ll put you down, all right?”

She didn’t object again, so Theon cautiously slid his arms behind her knees and shoulders, trying to avoid the cuts on her back. His shadows kept him from direct contact with her skin. Any exposed flesh was cut, blood and wine dried to her skin. The dress she’d worn to dinner was covered in small rips and tears from the glass and was sticky and wet from the alcohol.

What had happened down here?

As soon as they reached the top of the stairs, he set her down as promised, but the bond snarled internally, reaching for her as she leaned against the wall. Or maybe that was his magic wanting to touch her again. Sometimes the bond and his gifts were so intertwined, he couldn’t tell them apart anymore.

“We need to get the glass out, and then I can heal as much as I can before you bathe,” Theon said.

“I can do it.”

“You can…remove the glass from your feet and hands?”

“Yes.”

“But it would be faster if we helped,” Theon said.

Tessa shrugged, looking at something over his shoulder.

“We don’t even need to go upstairs right now,” Theon went on. “We can clean out the glass in the kitchen.”

She pushed off the wall without a word, walking gingerly to the kitchen island where she pulled herself onto a stool.

“Get what we need,” he murmured to Luka.

He could use his power to remove the glass, but having to heal all of those cuts would drain him even more. She needed to look perfect tonight, and he wasn’t about to take any blood from her. Not after what he’d done to her last night.