Electric Storm(48)

The bed dipped behind her as he got in beside her. She stiffened but didn’t turn. When she tried to stand, she found the blankets trapped by his weight. Either she rose naked or she remained caught.

Trapped.

Tightness invaded her chest, her breathing grew ragged. She could almost feel the shackles click into place around her ankles and wrists. Dropping her arms, she let the blanket fall.

Raven straightened as much as she could, her pride wrapped around her as she shuffled to the dresser. The temperature in the room rose. She felt his eyes trace along her slim curves and tried her best to tell herself slow and steady and she’d be free.

Jeans were out of the question. She snagged a pair of shorts and slipped them over her feet. By the time she was done, sweat coated her body and rivulets of blood dripped down her back where her wounds had torn open.

The door to the bathroom opened again, the shower still running. “What are you doing?”

Raven didn’t look at him, no need to when she could hear the lazy tone of his voice. Any movement would only aggravate the way the room was trying to twist itself about her. Her throat had gone dry. With painful determination, she grabbed a shirt, pushed her arms through the sleeves, but couldn’t force herself to lift it over her head. She needed another minute to guarantee she wouldn’t pass out.

She sensed movement and despite the pain, couldn’t prevent herself from tensing. “Don’t.”

“Here.”

Jackson held out one of his plain button-up shirts. When she glanced at his face, none of the humor or cruelty she expected to find was there. His face was respectfully averted from her body.

“The wounds would heal better if you left them open to air.” Spoken from experience.

“They’re already healing.” The wounds itched as her body knitted itself together. Though the damage was extensive, she’d be healed by morning if she shut down. Instead, the slow healing racked her body with waves of pain she couldn’t suppress. It left her vulnerable but conscious. No one could sneak up on her. “It would be safer if I slept alone.”

By the time she managed to untangle herself from her shirt, she was panting. Admitting defeat, she allowed Jackson to slip the sleeves over her arms, wincing at the thought of leaving a trail of her blood on his clothes.

Not once did he touch her. Not once did he fumble or cause her pain. The ease with which he accomplished it let her know this wasn’t the first time he’d dressed a woman. She couldn’t help wonder who she was, but ignored the bite of curiosity. And if she was honest, a little tug of jealousy.

Raven turned to the door and found it blocked by Taggert. “Move.”

He shook his head, his gaze steady on hers. There was no way she could elude him. Without her usual control, any power she used could kill him. She couldn’t take the risk.

“It’s almost morning. Sleep. We’ll stand guard. Our nearness should help accelerate the healing process.” Jackson picked up a pair of pants from the floor and tugged them on. She quickly averted her gaze, but not before she saw all that God had gave him. There was something about all the muscle, all that strength and knowing that every inch of him was there to protect and keep her safe.

They wanted her trust. Could she do it? Could she open herself up to them knowing that it would be more painful when they left her?

She looked at them, saw all the beauty and strength, saw the aching loneliness and the need to be needed.

They were worth the chance.

Allowing herself to be led back to bed, she gingerly settled herself on her side, closed her eyes, and coaxed the leftover energy snug around her body. A deep groan of pain escaped as her back muscles constricted, protesting the swiftness of the change. Power snapped along her skin then sank deep, deeper, until her bones resonated with it.





Chapter Fourteen





AFTERNOON

Raven woke deliciously warm, the smell of sunshine and outdoors refreshing. Taking care to keep still, she cataloged her injuries. Her power level was dangerously low. The need for energy, like an addiction, twisted through her. Her body ached, but the open wounds on her back had closed, leaving deeply bruised tissue as a reminder of yesterday’s events.

Her concentration broke when the bed beneath her swayed.

As in breathing.

Her eyes popped open to find herself face to face with Jackson. The beautiful whiskey brown color had bled completely from his eyes, leaving her with the brilliant yellow eyes of his beast. She didn’t feel threatened, but she did sense its curiosity. Funny thing, she wasn’t sure if that was much better.

“Ah, morning.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and wondered if she drooled on him when she used him for a pillow. How embarrassing. She must have rolled over to the closest source of heat and cuddled right up to him.