Chapter 10: The Third Night

I did not look at him all day.

Hester dressed the bruises on my shoulder, fed me broth with her own hands, and said nothing about what my wolf had done in the dirt.

She only said, "Tonight is the last."

At dusk Kellan stood in the bedroom doorway with a wet cloth in his hand.

He had washed the blood off his chest and put on a clean shirt, and his eyes were still red from lack of sleep.

"Hester says to cool your skin afterward," he said. "She left me this."

"Come in."

He came in.

Hester took her bag, looked at both of us for a long moment, and said, "After this, the medicine's done. Anything else is your own affair."

She shut the door behind her.

I sat on the edge of the bed with the shirt open at one shoulder.

He knelt on the floor in front of me.

"Last one," he said.

"Do it."

"It will..."

"I know what it will."

He put his hand flat against my ribs, as he had before, and I did not tell him to move it.

He bent his head.

The third bite went in slower than the others, and it did not hurt at all.

It was only heat.

It went down through my chest and through my belly and lower, and all the cold I had carried for fifteen years burned out of me at once.

A sound came out of my throat that I had not made in my life.

His teeth stopped.

"Brigid?"

"Don't stop," I said.

He did not.

When it was over, he lifted his head with my blood on his lip, and we looked at each other from two inches away.

I could feel my own pulse in my mouth.

"Cloth," I said.

He wet it again in the basin.

He laid it on the bite, then on my collarbone, then slowly up the side of my throat.

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