Fierro, I wasn’t finished,” Nash objects, but the rest of my Chosen close ranks and move Nash, Enoch and Kallan farther away from me.
“We’ll take care of our mate from here. You’ve done enough,” Valen tells him.
I turn to tell him to knock it the fuck off, but Ryker pulls his palm away from my back. He’s got an arm behind my knees in a blink, and he swings me up into a bridal carry before I can even find my voice to object. He hurries me away to the back of the plane and sits down, setting me in his lap. Ryker immediately shoves his hand up my shirt and pushes more Healing magic into me to get anything that Nash might have missed.
I grab his chin and turn his attention to my face. “It was an accident, Ryker,” I tell him, urging him with my eyes not to look so completely and utterly pissed.
His magic surges into me for a couple seconds more, and then he pulls it back. He leaves his warm hand on my stomach and puts his other palm on the back of my neck. He pulls my head down and presses his forehead to mine. Ryker huffs out a worried breath, and I run my fingers soothingly through his shoulder-length blond hair.
“You could have been hurt so much worse,” he tells me, his tone haunted.
“But I wasn’t. They’ll get control over their magic, and it will be fine. This was a fluke, not an assassination attempt,” I challenge and shoot a look over my shoulder at the rest of my guys who are standing guard to keep everyone else away from me. “Besides, I’ve never been stabbed before. Now I know what it feels like, and I’ll be more prepared to deal with it next time,” I reassure them, and Ryker shakes his head at me.
“Of course you would think somehow taking a sword to your gut is a good thing, you weirdo,” Ryker chuckles, and he pulls my lips to his. I open for him, but Ryker doesn’t deepen the kiss the way I’m encouraging him to. He kisses me slowly, savoring my lips, and I can taste the worry and the relief in it.
“You know you like my weird,” I tease as I pull away.
“It’s a good thing you’re hot, Squeaks, with some of the shit you put us through,” he teases, and I chuckle and play with the ends of his hair.
“I didn’t know you and Enoch used to be friends,” I tell him, curious about the history that spilled out with this fight.
Ryker gives me a peck and runs his thumb across my cheek. “Yeah, we were close when we were younger,” he admits, but then his features shutter, and it’s clear that he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. I want to ask him if he thinks Enoch knew about the neglect and what he was going through with his father, but I don’t want to press him. He looked conflicted when Knox and Enoch were fighting about it, and I suspect maybe he doesn’t really know what to think or how to feel. The tinge of sadness in his eyes makes me ache, and I want him to know it’s okay if he tucks this piece of pain away again. He doesn’t have to look at it just because I want him to.
“Think we can kick Evrin or Aydin out of one of the beds in the back and go make out?” I ask, my body warming as his fingers graze the skin of my abdomen, his lips mere inches from mine. A spark of relief and then heat fills his gaze, and I can practically see some of the weight and pain lift off of him. A flash of Ryker sucking on my nipple and pinching the other with his fingers, while Knox circled my clit with his tongue, pops into my head. I nuzzle the tip of his nose with mine, and Ryker laughs and then tsks reproachfully at me.
“You are recovering from a stab wound,” he argues.
“No, I’ve recovered from a stab wound. There’s a difference,” I tease.
Ryker’s beautiful blue eyes fill with heat, and his full lips turn up into a dazzling smile that takes my breath away. He’s so incredibly beautiful both inside and out, and I don’t know where I would be without him and the others. I hate that they’re mad about this whole situation, and I desperately want to