Page 139 of Obsidian and Frost

“Does he know?” he finally asked.

“I’m sure he does now. The glamor would have petered in and out during his physical distress as the band communicated it to me.” I sighed. “Something happened the other night that I can’t allow to happen again. For his safetyandLazriel’s peace of mind and sanity.” All right, and mine.Big time.I didn’t ever want to walk into a situation like I had that night again. So I’d taken precautions.

And yet I’d walked intothisjust moments ago—Cassius in pain and harmed.

Clutching the box of medical wipes and the hand towel, I pushed out of the bathroom.

I walked back into my main dorm room area, finding him standing rigidly against the wall beside the arched window, panting, his eyes unfocused, clearly struggling.

“Sit down. You lost a lot of blood.”

He went to ease my chair from my desk, fumbling with it in his current state.

I released an exasperated sigh and gestured at my bed. “Just sit down there. Don’t worry, you won’t get infected with my cooties or anything.”

As he started over there lethargically, he queried, “Cooties?”

My lips quirked, despite my current mood and my current stance where he was concerned—him and all his bullshit.

“My essence,” I told him. “My pull over you. Or whatever the hell you’re so afraid of when it comes to connecting with me.”

He sighed and slumped down on the bed heavily.

He didn’t speak to it, assuring me instead, “I just need a few moments.”

“You’ll need more than that. Lazriel was ravenous and he almost drained you dry. It’s bad enough what Celestial blood does to vampires, but it was compounded by the fact that Lazriel doesn’t feed from the vein, so he’s not even accustomed to the act itself at a basic level.”

Hell,this was going to shake him in a major way. Hechosenot to feed from the vein, but that decision had been ripped from him the moment Immortal blood had hit the air right in front of him.

I sat down on the bed beside Cassius and he tensed right up.

“Velra, I don’t think—”

I pressed the hand towel to the side of his neck, the wound still bleeding profusely, because Lazriel had, indeed, almost drained him dry, so he was very weak right now, his healing factor barely able to kick in. It was working just enough to prevent him from going into severe shock. Actually mending the wound—or wounds, considering Sylas had also inflicted a brutally deep one across the entire expanse of his upper torso—was a step too far currently.

“We need to keep the pressure on. You can’t afford to lose any more blood.”

“I will be fine.”

“Youwon’t.Unless you actually listen for once and let me help you.”

“As you wish,” he murmured, letting me hold the towel there.

With my free hand, I pulled out some of the wipes, then started removing some of the drying blood from the underside of his neck, across the chest wound.

He didn’t even flinch even as the wipe glided across the deep gash itself.

It had my gut twisting, as I knew it was because he’d endured so much pain that his tolerance was another level now.

“Cornelius called me this morning. He just found out that it was you who’d filled the position of Guest Lecturer for the Celestial course.”

“He wanted to warn you.”

“He wanted to prepare me.”

He eyed me curiously. “Is that what you believe I should have done for you?”

“Do you not think so?”