Page 150 of His Retribution

It has been much like it was after I used my abilities last year during the battle with Cyril, the way I all but shut down completely after exuding so much power, how I felt as though I'd been hit by a train and could barely move from my place on the tattered bed roll I slept on while I stayed in the mountain. And I am reminded as to why I am so reluctant to use any of my gifts at all.

The only real difference between then and now?

I'm recovering in my home, in my bed, while my mate cares for me instead of in a cave while my best friend acted the part of nursemaid, quite comically I might add.

And my beautiful mate has been so caring, so nurturing, so understanding through my convalescence that it has only made me love her more.

Endless hand and scalp massages to relax me.

Frequent deep tissue massages to combat the aches and pains that periodically wrack my muscles.

Several hours of feeding non stop to help restore my strength, to help sooth my exhausted body.

Cora has hand fed me the delicious soups she's made that are filled to the brim with vitamins and herbal remedies, she assisted me in the shower both times I felt as though I could handle it, helped me each time I needed to use the facilities or simply get up and move around.

She even tapped into a little of her power and used it to warm my frozen core in order to try to heal me from the inside out.

And that's not even to mention the wonderful amounts of cuddling, the countless hours spent in her arms to give me the physical reassurance of her body.

My mate has proven once again that she is my savior, my beautiful angel sent to love me unconditionally and be the balm on my tortured soul.

And yet I still find myself mildly frustrated with Cora despite the fact that I absolutely know I should not be anything but grateful.

In between caring for me and sharing with my brothers the new information she has acquired, Cora has been spending what little free time she has with the demon.

It should not frustrate me, should not make me jealous, especially after Cora shared with me the way they are linked, but between feeling incredibly helpless and the fact that I have not been able to speak with him myself or claim my mate in an act of possession to reestablish what is mine—very animalistic, I know, but it is unavoidable—I can't exactly help it.

And the fact that I am feeling better, still like a bag of dicks but better, and my light is most likely in the basement withhiminstead of here with me has me pouting like the toddler I so often seem to channel.

I hear my angel approaching, hear her bare feet pad their way down the tunnel and instead of sitting up to greet her, I roll to my stomach and aggressively bury my head under our pillows.

I do not want to hear whatZanshared with her today, do not want to hear more similarities between them that must be a result of his blood that was infused with hers. I don't even want to hear about any new information she obtained about her parents or my bastard grandfather we cannot fucking find.

No, I am perfectly content not hearing anything more about Zan and her time spent with him.

I'd much rather sit here and pout in silence until I can no longer stand it.

Only then shall we have words, words I won't mean, words that will start a fight. Words I am desperately trying not to say because my angel doesn't deserve them or my frustration.

"Hi, lovey." Cora chirps as she comes through the passageway. "How are you feeling?"

I just grunt.

Because I suck.

My angel giggles a little. "What are you doing?"

Another grunt as I burrow further under the pillow.

"Havok..." Her voice goes playfully stern as I feel her approach. "Lovey, are you pouting?"

"I do not pout," I grumble, my tone clearly one of pouting even while the pillow muffles it. I'm totally pouting.

"Aw. My lovey is pouting." Cora approaches the bed, stops next to my side. "You're cute when you pout."

"I do not pout," I grunt again, definitely pouting.

I feel a slight dip in the mattress, the shifting of sheets, then the weight of my light as she climbs on top of me, presses her front to my back, and slides her arms underneath my bare torso.