A Midsummer Night's Demon(39)

Ky remained still, allowing the ocean to caress them with its lapping, rolling waves.

“Is she okay?” Ky turned around at the sound of Matt’s voice and noticed the throng of people standing on the beach.

While the mass of spectators gathered at the water’s edge, only Matt and Bret lumbered into the water and battled the force of the waves to walk their way. Ky’s legs moved like leaden weights as he trudged toward the pair, meeting them half way. His clothes clung to his body, adding to the drag of their bodies through the water.

Matt reached out to take his sister from Ky. The warrior’s arms tightened instinctively around his heartmate. No one was taking her from him. No one.

A low growl of warning left his throat, causing Matt’s eyes to widen in disbelief. Ky watched the demon’s face harden into an implacable mask.

“She’s my sister,” the demon warned. Bret reached a restraining hand out, taking Lyn’s brother by his arm.

“She’s my mate.” Ky pushed between the two demons, making his way to the shore, uncaring in that moment whose brother he might be pissing off. Lyn was his. His to protect, to care for. He had no intention of releasing her care to her overbearing brother. He would be the one to see to her injuries.

When they emerged from the water, a young woman ran up to them carrying a large blanket. She wrapped it around his shoulders, gathering the coarse material in front of their bodies. Holding the blanket closed with her fists, she led them a little further up the beach, and came to a stop over a towel placed in the sand before the fire.

Ky knelt on the sandy towel, grateful for the warmth of the fire, yet hating the inferno at that same time for what it had done to Lyn. His mate moaned, the sound low and aggrieved brought his gaze to her face.

Ky noticed how pain furrowed her brow, caused tiny lines to appear along her forehead and at the corners of her eyes. The corners of her mouth pulled down in distress. She shifted her body, the slight movement elicited another moan.

Walking on his knees, Ky edged away from the towel. He gently placed Lyn on the terrycloth. In doing so, he exposed her fully to his view for the first time since they leapt over the fire. The flames had burnt most of her dress away, except a small bit of material covering her breasts. He tore the singed fabric away from her body, needing to see every inch to assess her injuries.

His breath sawed through his lungs at the sight before him. Her face and upper body were reddened, but otherwise unharmed. From the waist down, her body was charred, blackened by the flames. Her skin hung in places, looking much like the burnt flesh of a pig on a spit. The smell of her scorched flesh burned his nostrils, twisting his stomach with its putrid odor.

Lyn looked at him, pain watering her eyes. “How bad?” she choked out between sobs.

“Gods above,” her brother cursed, pushing his way through the assembly that encircled the couple.

“Someone call for a healer,” the Priestess said, pushing her way through the crowd.

“No,” Ky said.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Matt demanded, mirroring Ky’s position by kneeling on the opposite side of Lyn’s recumbent form.

“I can help her better than any healer.” Ky’s fangs lengthened from his gums and, without thought, he used them to score his wrist. He opened a deep gash and placed his bleeding wound over his mate’s lips, earning a collective gasp from the surrounding crowd.

“Drink, honey,” Ky ordered. “It will help you.”

She looked at him with complete trust in her eyes and nodded in acquiesce.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” her brother demanded to know.

Matt’s hand clamped down hard on Ky’s bleeding wrist at the exact same time Lyn’s hand took hold of his forearm. The hands of the siblings met over his skin, Matt’s warm, hers ice-cold from shock.

Ky’s eyes met the hard stare of Daelyn’s brother over her body. He would kill the male if he had to in order to help his mate. Lyn needed to drink his blood, it would help her heal and her dumbass brother was too ignorant to realize that every moment he held Ky’s arm away from her lips, he kept his sister from getting better.

Ky gathered his power to him, ready to release it into the crowd if that is what it took to allow him to aid his love.

“Let go.” The warrior’s voice carried an air of menace. “Now!”

Perhaps it was the tone of his voice or maybe the look in his eyes. But something made Matt release his arm—the first wise thing the male demon had done all night.