He smiled as he met her gaze. “See anything you like?”
“You’re a god, Warren. Everything about your body is beautifully balanced.”
Another smile teased the edges of his lips.
“And you definitely don’t do that enough.”
“What?” His brow furrowed as he zipped up his leathers.
“Smile.” She wanted to kiss him, but didn’t dare. She knew his alpha-mating cycle was peaking and it seemed to take so little to get either of them going. “So, when is Fergus heading over here?”
He narrowed his eyes as if considering. “Twenty-three minutes and counting.” That’s when she saw it. His damaged eye was open even more. Was it her imagination, or were the silvery scars on his face thinning as well.
She drew close, touched him then gasped. “Have you seen your face, your eye? It’s open even more. Can you see better?”
“I did notice the scarring, that it had flattened somewhat. And yes, I can see better.”
She had a towel wrapped around her body. His gaze fell to her chest
. He touched one of her scars. “It’s the same for you, isn’t it?”
A panicky sensation jolted her. “But how is this possible? It’s as though we’re both being healed.”
He shook his head. “Like everything else that’s going on, I don’t want to think about it too much.”
She turned away from him and headed to the bathroom. “I have to dry my hair. You can head to the dining room for a bite. I talked to the staff.”
“Thanks. I will. I admit I’m starved.”
She was grateful he didn’t insist on staying with her. She needed the separation.
Once in the bathroom, she pressed herself up against the tile wall and forced herself to breathe. She hadn’t expected this or wanted it. She knew they created some kind of magic together, but mutual healing? Somehow, despite all the miraculous things that had happened, the thought they were healing each other was a breaking point for her.
She’d been a fool about this man. She’d thought on some stupid level that she just wanted to share his bed for a while. Nothing permanent. A stolen season.
“Hey.”
Suddenly, Warren was there, in the doorway. “What?” She barked the word.
“What’s wrong? I could feel your distress in waves while I was putting on my socks.”
When he stepped toward her, she lifted a hand. “Don’t. I can’t—” But nothing more came out.
He lifted both hands. “Kiara, it’s okay.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I can’t. I didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t mean to objectify you, Warren, but I just wanted to sleep with you and now we’re healing each other. What the fuck does this mean?”
He laughed. “Did you just say that?”
“I did.” Some of the tension eased out of her.
“Relax. Seriously. You can’t be my alpha-mate so there’s nothing to think about. We can be fuck-buddies.”
This time she chuckled. “Go get your steak. I had a moment, is all. I’m better.”
“You’re not better. You’re great.”
At that, she glared at him. “And you’re not helping.”