Page 37 of Possess Me at Midnight (Doomsday Brethren #4)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I ce!

“Oh, my… You’re here. You’re safe!” I fling myself against him, desperate to feel his solid warmth, to prove he’s real.

The pained groan that tears from his throat stops me instantly. I rear back, pulling away to scan the damage.

The joy tripping through my heart quickly gives way to horror.

Both his eyes are swollen shut, his cheekbones and jaw bruised blue-black.

He lies shirtless on his stomach, and the sight of his back has me recoiling.

Someone whipped him viciously. Repeatedly.

His flesh is in shreds, still oozing blood and swelling angrily.

Fresh blood wreathes his head, slowly running into the dried rivulets crusting on his temples and brows.

The metallic scent mixes with the lingering stench of the dungeon that still clings to his skin.

It takes all my strength to hold in my sobs.

Every lash, every bruise—my fault. He endured violent beatings because he refused to betray me, because I was foolish enough to distract him at a crucial moment.

If Ice remained in Mathias’s dungeon even another few hours, I’ve no doubt he would have died.

Biting back a sob, I smooth shaking fingertips over his sweating brow. His flesh burns fever-hot beneath my palm, yet he shivers as if chilled to the bone. “Ice, can you hear me?”

He struggles to draw in a rasping breath. His chest rattles with the effort. “Princess.”

I break completely. Tears sting my eyes, fall onto my cheeks. “I’m so sorry. You’re safe now. I’ll take care of you.”

Vaulting off the bed, I run to the ensuite bathroom and grab a stack of washcloths and towels. I wet one, then carry the rest back to the bed. His slack shoulders and soft snoring tell me he’s fallen asleep.

Probably for the best.

Swallowing hard, I gently mop the blood from his head, face, and neck, finding the beloved man under the grime.

He barely moves—until I encounter an open gash at his nape.

When he jerks and hisses, I dab at the damage, trying my best not to hurt him.

Then I rinse the washcloth in the sink before returning to tend the shreds of his back.

With feather-soft strokes, I pat the wet cloth over his destroyed flesh.

The washcloth quickly turns pink, then darkens to red as I pat away layers of dried blood and something I’d rather not identify.

His skin feels like heated marble—burning hot yet deceptively fragile.

My tears mingle with the water as the droplets fall onto his ravaged back in silent apology.

God, the agony he must have endured—all to protect me. How cruel Mathias must have been, and yet I know Ice would never tell the evil wizard who has the diary or where to find me.

How did I ever think this man less than worthy?

He bled rather than speak my name. He consigned himself to death to keep me from harm.

He’s a supposed madman…but he’s shown more honor than most of the over-Privileged Council combined.

Even my own brother has treated him with contempt and disdain.

Yet Ice has opened his heart and used his body to protect me.

The man utterly humbles me.

Once I’ve cleaned his back as best I can, I remove his pants.

They’re filthy and torn—the rough garment stiff with dried blood that crackles as I peel it from the open wounds that have adhered the fabric to his skin.

My sharp intake of breath echoes in the quiet room when I reveal the fresh, oozing welts on his hip, his thigh.

After those wounds are cleaned, I withdraw my wand from my pack. I’m not magickind’s best healer, but I’ve patched Bram up after a few scrapes. Ice’s road to wellness might take a bit longer and a bit more energy, but I vow to do everything in my power to make him well again.

With a wave of my wand, I focus on stopping the blood, mending the skin, closing the wounds.

My magic flows to his torn flesh as it slowly begins to knit itself back together.

The angry heat of infection cools, and gradually, his shivering subsides.

His energy is utterly depleted, but I’ll provide more when he wakes.

After discarding the soiled towels, I rest curled up beside him, careful not to jostle his wounds.

His familiar scent—sage and cedar beneath the harsh overlay of blood and pain—fills my lungs with each breath.

I hold his hand and, using my siren abilities, send him soothing, healing vibes.

His palm is rough with calluses, his knuckles littered with old scars, but he’s warm against me.

I close my eyes, so grateful that he’s here beside me and that he’ll live.

A miracle? The Doomsday Diary’s intervention?

I don’t know, and at the moment, I don’t care.

“Where am I?” he mutters, his voice gravelly.

“Sterling MacTavish’s estate. We’re regrouping here temporarily.”

“The others?”

Despite how close he’s come to death, he still worries about his fellow warriors and their mates? Ice humbles me all over again. “Fine. Everyone is unscathed.”

“You escaped MacKinnett’s.” He attempts a smile through parched lips. “Good girl.”

If not for Ice, I would never have left there alive. “Don’t ever sacrifice yourself for me like that again.”

He pries open swollen lids that are thankfully recovering. “I would do it a thousand times over to keep you safe.”

My heart threatens to burst. Ice has already proven his worth, yet his protection and caring keep making me fall. How could I not want to Bind to him?

But following that impulse would likely lose me the only family I’ve ever known.

I press a soft kiss to his forehead. “I worried about you. I missed you.”

Ice lifts that oh-so-green gaze of his and caresses my face. “Are you well?”

“All right. Better now that you’re here.” I smile, then face reality again. “How did you escape?”

“I don’t recall. One minute I was on the ground hearing Mathias’s footsteps walk away, certain I was about to pass into my nextlife. The next, I opened my eyes to see Shock’s boots beside me.”

My mouth drops open in shock. The dodgy wizard actually helped? “And?”

Ice frowns, clearly trying to piece it together. “He came with food and unshackled me. I spit it at him.”

I grimace. Even if Shock came to help Ice, after that stunt… I’m stunned he didn’t help Ice to his doom.

“We traded insults. Oddly enough, he didn’t hit me, just yelled. Since I’d used up all my energy fighting off Mathias’s mental invasion, I did all I could to prolong the argument. His fury gave me a bit of a boost. It kept me alive.”

“Did he ask where the diary was and which female carried it?” But I already know the answer.

Ice nods. “Shock stomped out in a huff, either blind or stupid. He left me uncuffed and the door unlocked. I ignored the food and wandered into the hall. Since I was dizzy and bleeding, and I didn’t know what magical protections Mathias had around the place, I didn’t think I could teleport.

I searched for a way out instead. Then…I don’t remember. But here I am.”

Whether begging Shock’s help or frantically writing my heart’s deepest desire in the Doomsday Diary snatched Ice from evil, I don’t care. He’s back with me, safe now.

“I’m so relieved. I was so worried.” I conjure a breakfast tray and cold, clean water. “Eat, then rest. Heal.”

He downs a few swallows of water, then sets the glass aside before turning to me. “Sabelle, I know I have no right to ask this of you, but I need…”

Need what? I scan him from head to toe. The black eyes and beaten jaw are now faintly marred with yellowish bruises. The wounds on his back are closing and scabbing over, the blood, pus, and ragged flesh almost gone. The wounds on his hip and thigh are all but healed.

Then Ice rolls to his side—and reveals his need in the turgid length of his cock.

I jerk my stare back to his face. The need etched there melts me.

In the most tangible way possible, he’s aching to reconnect, feel alive, and assure himself that we’re safe and whole.

Without a word, he’s begging me to bond with him as much as I’ll allow.

He’s desperate to know, at least in this shadowed, predawn moment, that I’m his.

I need that, too.

Emotion clogs my throat as I press my mouth to his. He waits, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. But for me, he does, remaining nearly still while I sweep into his mouth in a slow, worshipping kiss that leaves me panting when I finally lift my head.

“Ice…”

With a nudge, he rolls me to my back, half covering my body with his own. His massive shoulders block out the rest of the room. His familiar weight on me both chases away the darkness that festered during his absence and ignites an inferno inside me.

He takes over, covering my lips with his own, soft but urgent, lingering but demanding.

His mouth tastes of copper and determination.

Beneath that, I detect a flavor that’s uniquely Ice—wild and untamed and completely addictive.

The scrape of his stubble against my jaw sends shivers skittering across my skin.

With his kiss alone, he reaches deep inside me and finds my heart, my need, and he embraces them. I sigh against him, desire and desperation rising. I can no more keep my hands from roaming him than I can resist taking my next breath.

“That’s it, princess. Touch me…”

I don’t need to be told twice. With reverent fingers, I skim his back, gratified to feel his wounds nearly healed.

My palm glides down his arms, my thumb brushes over his jaw.

He repays me with a kiss that starts like gossamer and ends like a hammer.

Soft, then deeper, harder, burning, until I can’t breathe, can’t think. And I don’t want to.