hair was inky black, tendrils plastered to his features.
Erin’s eyes scanned the front of his bare chest, trying to swallow the panic that was rising. Up close, she saw the two deep gashes, raking from the middle of his left pectoral all the way down to his hip bone.
“Vrax,” he cursed.
“Jaxor,” she breathed, blinking away the rain in her eyes. It was deep. Too deep. She watched dark blue blood push up between the gashes before it disappeared into the rising water at their feet. “That needs stitches. I—I can do that.”
Erin knew it was bad when Jaxor nodded his head without a single argument. He jerked his head up to the cave’s entrance and Erin remembered that he had medical supplies in one of the chests.
He staggered forward, seemingly dizzy, and Erin, acting on instinct, wrapped her arm around his hips, minding the deep wound. She wondered how much blood he’d lost already…and how much it would take until he passed out from the loss. If he’d been human, he would have already, surely.
Leaving the kekevir, Erin helped lead him up to the cave, though it wasn’t easy. The stone was slick and she had a seven-foot-tall alien male leaning on her.
Jaxor groaned when they made the final push up the last stone and then they both stumbled inside.
He dropped on the furs towards the back of the cave—where Erin had slept last night—leaning against the wall.
Out of the rain, Erin watched with dread and dismay as the blood began to pool.
Chapter Twelve
Okay, that’s a lot of blood, Erin thought, pushing back the tangle of wet hair that hung in front of her eyes. But she didn’t hesitate to kneel before the chest, grabbing everything that looked useful. A silvery, metallic thread. A hefty-looking needle. There were no more clean cloths, though—she remembered that Jaxor had used the rest of it bandaging her foot yesterday.
Quite the pair we are, she thought shakily, bringing her haul over to where Jaxor was sitting. He looked relaxed. His limbs were loose, his eyes were studying hers. Though he had to be in pain, he didn’t show it.
“You’ll be okay,” she said softly. She had to believe that.
Oh God, she thought, her eyes flickering down to the wound. Erin had never considered herself squeamish. Jake, when he was five, had cut open the palm of his hand on a sharp can lid. She’d stitched a cut on her mother’s forehead after John had thrown a bottle at her, after her mother had begged her not to take her to the hospital. One of the children in her class a couple years back had broken his arm on the playground, falling off the monkey bars, and though it had hung at a grotesque angle, Erin hadn’t even blinked as she’d rushed towards him.
But nothing had truly prepared her for all the blood.
She inhaled a long, even breath, kept her voice steady, as she asked Jaxor, “What should I do?”
The end of the silver thread was pinched between her thumb and her index finger. The needle was in her other hand.
“I will do it,” was what he said.
Erin gaped at him and held the needle away from him when he reached for it.
“Stop,” she said, pushing him gently back. He inhaled a sharp breath when his torso twisted slightly, the only sign that he was in a lot of pain. “Just…just sit still.”
There was so much blood, but it wouldn’t lessen until she stitched some of the wound closed. So Erin immediately set out to work.
The first stitch made her stomach churn. Jaxor’s skin was…thick. Much thicker than her own. Now she knew why the larger needle had been necessary.
Erin leaned over him, kneeling at his side. He lifted his left arm up so she could get better access and Erin refused to be distracted by the heady, delicious musk that floated off him. She’d almost forgotten his scent in the past couple days.
The second stitch was easier, and the one after that. Erin worked quickly and methodically, starting at the bottom of one of the gashes and stitching upwards until she ended near his nipple. At times, she lost her grip on the needle since her fingers were slippery with his dark blue blood, but soon enough, the first gash was closed and she hurriedly moved on to the next one.
Jaxor hadn’t said a word when Erin closed the first gash. When Erin finally caught her breath and managed a peek up at him