The elf drops to the ground on all fours, his head lowered in shame.
Thea steps away from Rafe and folds her arms over her chest. “I’ll tell you…if you apologize to Krystian.”
“What?” all of us exclaim at once—including Krystian, who finally lifts his head to spear Thea with an unreadable look.
“You heard me.” One of her feet begins to tap impatiently. “I went with Krys willingly. He told me to stay back, but I chose to involve myself in the fight. If I’d listened to him, I never would’ve gotten hurt. And as soon as he saw me go down, he ran in front of me and tortured the guy who hurt me.”
I blink at her, unable to believe what I’m hearing.
Apparently, I’m not the only one.
“Krys protected you?” Krystian sounds incredulous.
“Of course he did.” Thea arches an eyebrow. “He’s you, isn’t he? And you would protect me, right?”
Krystian opens and shuts his mouth repeatedly, but apparently, he has no rebuttal.
“But your fucking face,” Rafe growls out, once again reaching for her. His fingers graze her mottled skin, and when she winces, he drops his arm back to his side. Whirling towards me, he snaps out, “Fix it!”
“Let’s get some ice on that,” I tell Thea gently, guiding her towards my room.
Guilt gnaws at my stomach like fire ants. It was my job to watch Krys, and I failed. Yes, he created an illusion that made me believe he was still in the room with me, but I should’ve seen through it, throughhim.
Everett hurries to the ice machine and returns a few minutes later with a bag, handing it to me. I gently rest it against Thea’s face, cringing sympathetically when she winces.
“I know it hurts,” I say soothingly. “But we need to get the swelling down.”
“Stupid shifter.” She pouts, and I shouldn’t find it as adorable as I do.
“So what exactly happened, sweetheart?” I reposition the ice on her face then hold it there.
I have no idea what healing abilities a reaper has, but I guess none. If she did, she would’ve healed by now, or at least started to.
Everett, Rafe, and Krystian are all listening intently, but I keep her attention on me, pretending we’re in a world of our own.
“It’s as I said. Krys came to my room, and we left together. He brought me to this seedy bar, where we accidentally destroyed a bunch of motorcycles.”
Everett—who owns a bike—winces at that, but Thea doesn’t notice, her eyes intent on mine.
“And then?” I press, desperate to know how she got this injury…and if the person who did it to her is still breathing.
“And then Krys stormed inside and demanded his money back,” Thea explains.
Krystian frowns. “His money?”
“That’s what he said, but I think he was full of shit,” she confesses, her tone flippant as if this isn’t the part of the story she wants to focus on. “Anyway, all of the supernaturals attacked him at once, and he shot arrow after arrow at them. It was really freaking cool, if I’m being honest. Sexy, even.”
A tiny blush stains her cheeks at her impromptu confession. Krystian, I notice, stands a little straighter, absently brushing at a strand of his unruly blond hair.
“I saw a shifter sneaking up on Krys from behind, so I intervened. Stabbed the fucker in the shoulder. He turned around, backhanded me, and then Krys dismembered him.”
She sounds oddly…blasé over the fact that Krys tortured a guy in front of her.
Then again, nothing seems to perturb her. In some aspects, she’s as sweet and innocent as a newborn baby. In others, she’s hardened and fierce, a warrior goddess in her own right.
“He’s dead?” Rafe asks darkly.
Thea shakes her head. “No.” At our looks of disbelief, she hurries to elaborate. “I was afraid the arrival of a soul would force me back to the world of the dead, you know? Didn’t want to risk it.”
