“I don’t give a damn about the vampires.” Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision as he edged forward with slow, uncertain steps. He was desperate to touch his mate but unsure if he could without hurting him. “Areyouokay?”
“Of course.” Dominic’s lips twitched into a cocky grin, a flicker of his usual bravado. “So is everyone else. They’re helping with…clean up.”
Sammy nodded. While it probably made him a selfish asshole, he didn’t really care about anyone else.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not really.” Dominic lifted his right arm out to the side and glanced down at his chest. “I’m already healing, and most of the blood isn’t even mine.”
Which meant at least some of itwas.
“Can…can I—?” He choked on the words, unable to force them past his trembling lips.
But Dominic understood. Holding his arms out, he beckoned Sammy to him.
“Come here.”
He closed the distance and collapsed into his mate’s embrace, shuddering with relief.
“Easy,” Dominic purred against his ear. “I’m right here. Everything is okay now.”
Muscled arms wrapped around his midsection, lifting him off the floor. Rather than fight it, he scrambled for purchase, locking his legs around Dominic’s waist and burying his face against the side of his neck.
Copper, sweat, and something darker permeated his skin, but Sammy didn’t care. He clung harder, refusing to let go.
“Shh,colibrí.” Dominic petted his hair and stroked the back of his neck. “I’ve got you.”
Completely falling apart now that the adrenaline had started to ebb, Sammy blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I made muffins.”
“They smell amazing.” Dominic’s voice vibrated against his cheek, a smile evident in his tone. “I’ll grab one after a shower.”
Sammy lingered for a moment longer, soaking in Dominic’s warmth and letting the steady thrum of his heartbeat ground him.
“I’ll get you some clean clothes,” he murmured reluctantly. When he tried to untangle himself, however, Dominic tightened his arms and started up the stairs. “What are you doing?”
“Going to shower.”
While wholly inappropriate given the circumstances, Sammy couldn’t help but respond to the innuendo in his mate’s tone.
Heat crept up his neck and into his face as his pulse tripped into a wild gallop. Nerves sparked, electricity raced across his skin, and a familiar ache tightened in his belly.
“Dom, I don’t—”
The feeble protest died on his lips when the world dimmed, and he felt the uneasy sensation of being dragged through a tube.
He landed inside a spacious bathroom, decorated in warm hues of green and amber. Hot water steamed from the showerhead, the glass fogged, and two plush towels rested on the double vanity.
The tattered remains of Dominic’s shirt had vanished during the jump, along with the blood and grime, but he still looked haggard and battle-worn. Healing cuts and mottled bruises painted his torso like a canvas, and dark circles shadowed the skin under his eyes.
Carrying him to the vanity, Dominic sat him on the counter and pushed into the cradle of his thighs, grinding against the hard ridge behind Sammy’s zipper. He leaned in, one handbraced on the polished granite, and pinched a lock of Sammy’s hair between his fingers.
“It’s red.” He didn’t speak loudly, didn’t growl, but he sounded insulted.
Sammy cringed, eyeing the offending strands that gleamed ruby in the pendant lights. Before he could form a response, Dominic pressed a palm to the side of his head and brushed his thumb over Sammy's eyebrow.
"There are flecks of blue in this eye.”
Damn. He hadn’t realized he’d let it get that far.