“Please,” I whispered as he laid me gently onto the floor of the shower.
Our eyes met, and I tried to show him how much this meant, how much I needed this even though it might seem trivial.
He reached up, dragging his gaze away from my face. I closed my eyes, resigned to whatever fate he deemed for me. A shock of cold hit me, and it began. My muscles cramped violently as if they were trying to tear themselves from my very bones. The traitorous heart that thumped in my chest stopped, then spasmed, sputtering as it beat again. Everything seemed to try to rip its way free of me, and even my lungs froze for an eternity, warming my chest with the burning of suffocation.
When they functioned again, I screamed. It wasn't one of anger or shock. It was that high-pitched keening that we had all heard so many times before when we reaped; a death wail poured from me. If only I were mourning myself, I would be free.
Even after the water turned warm, I still wailed. Locked into the torture, I writhed, seeking to ease it, but nothing did. The commotion encouraged my monster to deepen its assault, to twist its claws a little harder and to reach a little further. Indescribable sensations rippled through me, and I wanted to run, to escape, but how could I escape myself?
My throat closed up, cutting off my howl suddenly. I couldn't breathe, but though it might sound odd, a trickle of hope wrapped around my heart. Maybe it will finally kill me.
Kian noticed and pressed his lips to mine. When air forced its way into my lungs, that hope shattered, its shards impaling themselves into my rapidly beating, treasonous heart.
I gasped as my own body took charge of my breathing again.
“Hotter,” I croaked, fire burning in my throat.
“It'll burn you,” Trace said from the doorway at the same time Axton said, “No. Too hot.”
They must have been drawn by the scream. I told them. I told them, but they didn't listen. They didn't believe me.
“Hotter,” I tried again, concentrating only on Kian.
He was the one I needed on my side right then. When I jerked—a reaction to the sudden stabbing inside—he nodded slowly, water dripping off his face. He stood, but instead of turning it up, he walked away from me.
No. Please. Not him too.
I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear watching him leave. I'd thought he might understand, at least a little. When the door clicked closed, I felt a cracking inside and clutched my chest. Am I crying? Does it matter? I should be happy he's gone.
A tug on the hem of my shirt made my eyes fly open. Kian twisted so he could move my arm. I watched him as he pulled my shirt off. The careful movement of his fingers and the way he concentrated on his task of caring for me caused my jaw to quiver. My tears mixed with the water that fell, and that crack grew hot as it tried to meld itself back together.
He struggled to pull my wet pants off of me. His curses warmed me a little more when he kept at it. Finally he conquered the suction of tight, soaked pants, and they plopped on the floor with a smacking sound. His clothes quickly covered mine as he undressed.
It wasn't until he turned up the heat that I spoke. “Wait, no. If you stay, don't turn it up. It'll burn you.”
The squeak of him pushing it a little more prefaced his declaration. “No, it won't. Fae, remember? We run warmer, and I can handle it.”
My mouth opened, but whatever I was about to spill out halted at the look on his face. He looked strange without a hint of the sly smile I loved. I found myself nodding before my leg spasmed, and I cried out.
That sped him up. He dropped down and rubbed my calf, which only increased the pain. Through gasping breaths, I tried to ask him to stop, but he only began to hum.
Slowly, the hurt receded to a more tolerable level, and he placed my leg in the path of the scalding water with great care. The sheet that separated the shower from the rest of the room fluttered as he pulled it closed and moved around me.
When he knelt behind me, his long fingers massaged my shoulders. The heat, his circular motions, and his melodic