Children of the Moon 04 - Dragon's Moon

am compromised.”
    “No,” he growled out. “Not yet.”
    “But it feels so good.”
    “Aye, it does.”
    She went still, meeting his gaze with determined blue orbs. “Then we can give one another pleasure without you breaking your promise.”
    “You are sneaky,” he said with admiration and no little shock.
    “It would be a tragedy if I learned nothing of value in the years of my childhood.”
    He agreed, though with less humor than she seemed to feel about it.
    “I have still to heal your leg. It is at risk.”
    “You will share yourself with me, after?” She was demanding an entirely different sort of promise now.

Chapter 10

“Among all the kinds of serpents, there is none comparable to the Dragon.”
    —E DWARD T OPSELL
    “I will share what I can,” Lais vowed.
    “Then you may heal me.”
    “Saucy wench.”
    Mairi grinned. “I find you bring out things in me I have never been certain of letting others see before.”
    “You are safe now.”
    “Yes.”
    “You can trust the Sinclair.”
    “You are here. I am safe.”
    Her words made him question his certainty he could not have a mate, but then she did not know his past. If she did, Mairi would not give her trust to Lais so easily.
    He slipped his hands from the soft pillows of her breasts, unable to stop himself brushing her nipples as he did so.
    She gasped, arching again, higher than before and then frowning and crying out.
    “What is it?”
    “Nothing. I am fine.”
    “Do not lie to me.”
    “My back…”
    So, they had more to do than he had thought. He said nothing as he laid both his hands on the huge bruise on her outer thigh. He could feel the near break in the bone below, the depth of damage in the muscle and tissues around it.
    He wanted to kill the man who had done this to her, Lais’s eagle screaming inside him for revenge.
    Her small hand pressed against his cheek. “It is all right, Lais. Already, it feels better.”
    “Healing you is easier than it has ever been.” And ’twas a good thing, or he would never have had the strength to do all he had to this point.
    “I wonder why,” she said, her tone implying they both knew the answer and daring him to say it out loud.
    “Better to wonder if I will have the strength to heal your back after this.” Though he would. He had no choice.
    He spoke a Chrechte blessing over her as he continued to concentrate on healing her leg. He felt a surge of power go through him and he dropped his head in thanks to God.
    “It is time to turn you over.” He withdrew his hands.
    She raised her hand toward him. “Help me?”
    “Always.” He grabbed her hand and gently pulled while helping her to roll forward with another hold on her hip.
    Once she was on her side, facing away from him, he looked down and swore in voluble Chrechte at what he saw. It amazed him that she had lain on her back both the night before and today without complaint. It was covered in bruises.
    “Is it very ugly?”
    “Nothing about you is ugly, Mairi, but those bastards must have taken turns pummeling your back.”
    “I rolled into a ball, to protect myself.” She let out a hiccupping breath and he knew she was crying at the memory. “They hit and kicked my back over and over.”
    “Oh, sweet lass, I am sorry.”
    “You did not do it. You never would.”
    She had such faith in him and it was not warranted, not by the man he had once been. No, he would never havebeaten a child or a woman, but his crimes were just as bad. “I have to touch you, to learn where you need most healing.”
    “Yes.”
    “I am sorry,” he said again.
    She put her hand over his on her hip, her silent request undeniable. He turned his hand over and laced their fingers together. Then he took the amber crystal with his other hand and touched her as lightly as he could with the smoothest side. She did not flinch away, though it had to hurt.
    He went over her back without pausing to heal, simply looking for any cracks in bone. Thankfully, there were none. He healed the worst of her bruises, but she would still have pain on the morrow. He had had to leave too much undone.
    When he finished, he was shaking with exhaustion and still his arousal plagued him.
    “Are you done?” she asked in a lethargic voice.
    “For now.”
    “Can I turn back over?”
    “You would be more comfortable on your side.”
    “I want to see you.”
    He nodded, though she could not see him. Withdrawing his hand from hers, he stood. “Do not