Page 95 of Only Flames Remain

No way in the seven hells that this woman was straddling me, her soft legs braced against the chair on either side of me. Her thighs clenching the outsides of mine, her soft hair brushing my chest as she bent over me to slather the paste over the wound.

Despite my confusion and the fever that muddled my thoughts, I grew hard beneath her. She narrowed her gaze in assessment as it traveled from the wound to my face, then back again.

She said nothing.

Could she feel my hard length pressed against her thigh?

Even if her poultice didn’t work, I still preferred this version of healing to anything Azhar could offer. He had never climbed into my lap while wearing a sinfully arousing dress.

A laugh bubbled to my lips, but my mouth was too dry, and the sound was garbled.

“I’m glad you find this amusing, Prince.”

Her touch was soft. Like moonlight against bare skin.

“Amusing?” My gaze darkened as I watched her work. “That’s one word for it.”

Desire flooded me as I watched her, bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she smothered my side in that gods-awful paste. I flinched as she pulled me toward her to reach around my back.

Did she feel it too? That insatiable pull? That draw unlike anything I had ever experienced before?

She sat back, admiring her work as the throbbing in my side dulled to a soft ache. Her pulse was beating heavily at her neck. I unconsciously leaned into her, the smell of citrus and bergamot rushing over me. I wanted to drown in it. In her.

She leaned back to meet my gaze and my nostrils flared.

“Sorin…when was the last time you fed?” she asked, gaze serious.

Fed?

All I could think about was the blush that rose to her cheeks, spilling blood beneath her skin like a pooling glow. Her narrowed eyes, one blue as the tides, the other soft as melted chocolate. She shifted her weight atop me and I groaned, but not from pain.

Did she know what she did to me? That I felt more unraveled in this moment than I ever had before? That the mere presence of her on top of me had me so hard I was throbbing beneath her?

“Sorin?” Her voice of concern broke through my haze of thoughts.

“Aveline?” I answered back with a laugh.

She pressed a hand to my shoulder as she dropped the empty bowl onto the side table beside us.

“When was the last time you fed? I am no expert by any means, but I know that Vireth require blood to live. I would assume that they, too, require blood to heal,” she pointed out.

My head fell to the side as I studied her beneath heavy lids.

She made a good point. When was the last time I had fed? My memories from today were hazy at best, but I do recall having been thirsty.

I sat up straight, a moment of clarity sparking as I held her gaze. It had been days since I had fed.

No…not days.

Since bringing her to Stormgaard. I had spirits laced with old blood that night, but it had done nothing to tide me over. I had been too preoccupied, ignoring the thirst that stirred within me. It had been almost two weeks since I had truly fed. I usually fed at least twice weekly, the realization washing over me as I internally cursed myself. It was no wonder I wasn’t healing.

I was starving.

She reached over me to grab something leafy and green from the table beside her.

“Under your tongue,” she instructed.

I lifted a brow at her as a wicked smile lifted the corner of my mouth. She raised her own eyebrows in return, and I simply allowed my mouth to fall open.