Fallen University: Year Two

“Perhaps. Or maybe he’s just short-tempered and stir crazy.”

“This isn’t cabin fever. He’s evil.”

“We shall see. Hurry, we need to get him downstairs before he comes to.”

Wow. Maybe Xero was right after all.

The school admins and staff obviously still believed that the atmosphere here could turn otherwise good creatures evil. Fantastic. Maybe it was just a matter of time before we were all signing up to slaughter humans for Gavriel’s army. Or maybe…

I lost track of my thought, my mind going fuzzy and blank. Wyatt’s swipe had damaged me more than I’d thought, and I was still bleeding heavily. I pulled my hand away from my torso to see that it was covered in bright red blood.

“Come on.” Kingston’s voice was gentle. He slid his arms under me and lifted me like a princess. A demonic, blood-covered princess.

As he carried me through the corridors, his touch held me together. I wasn’t healed, but I wasn’t dying either. Hovering in some sort of stasis, I relaxed against him, letting his energy wash over me.

I half expected him to bring me to the infirmary, but when I lifted my heavy eyelids, I realized that wasn’t the direction we were headed. A momentary flood of relief hit me as I realized that, whatever Kingston might think of the bond between us, he knew me well enough by now to know what I really needed. And it wasn’t a damn healer.

When we reached his dorm room—he’d been lucky enough to get one of the rare single-occupancy rooms—he laid me down on the bed and kissed me.

Pain brought my consciousness sharply to the forefront. I whimpered against his mouth and he pulled away, gazing down at me with worried emerald eyes.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s fine. Healing hurts sometimes,” I murmured, trembling with shock and need. “Come back. Please…”

He did. He didn’t even hesitate, and he didn’t shrink back from the blood soaking my tunic. Instead, he leaned over the bed and poured sweet life force into me with deep, tender kisses and gently roaming hands. I swallowed my gasps of pain as my torso and chest stitched itself back together, not wanting to scare him off again.

After several long moments, he pulled away slowly, then slid his fingers down my torso to where I’d been hit. The wounds had closed, but they were still visible through the torn, bloody fabric.

“I’ll be right back.”

He grabbed a towel from his closet and disappeared through the door, returning less than a minute later with a small bowl of water. He must’ve filled it up in the shared bathroom down the hall. I hadn’t moved from the spot where I lay, conserving my strength as my body continued to heal itself, drawing on the power his kisses had given me.

Taking a seat on the bed next to me, he lifted my shirt over my head and tossed the wet, bloody garment to the floor. Heat flashed in his deep green eyes at the sight of my bare torso, but his hands were gentle as he dipped the towel in the water and began to clean the blood from my chest and stomach. When he’d finished his work, he tossed the towel—which was now stained red and pink—onto the floor with my ruined tunic.

His fingers brushed over the marks Wyatt’s claws had left, and he shook his head in concern.

“Think this will scar?”

My skin seemed to buzz where he touched me, and it was hard to keep my breath steady and even as I moved his hand to my other side, to the spot where the piece of rebar had pierced me the year before.

“I doubt it. This one is hardly visible anymore.”

Then I turned my head, bringing his hand to the back of my neck where four little freckles marked my skin; one for each of my bonded men. The marks had formed the day they’d saved my life.

“Remember? You got to me in time.”

He made a soft noise in his throat, then lowered his head to kiss each of the scratches Wyatt had left on my body, one after the other. As he did, the skin there softened ever so slightly, healing beyond scar tissue.

“I remember,” he murmured, his voice husky. He ran his fingers through my hair and cupped the back of my head, tilting my face up to look at him. “I remember never wanting anyone or anything more than I wanted you in that moment.”

A surge of power rippled through my body as he kissed me once more.

Chapter Ten

My tongue swept into Kingston’s mouth as if life, death, and everything in between could be found between his lips. In a way, they could.

This man held one of four keys to my soul, and when he kissed me like this, it felt like he had used his key to open a door to a part of me I hadn’t even known existed.