Blood Lands (Savage Lands #5)(58)

“That too,” Gawel grunted, motioning at the bra. The bullet had gone through it, probably infecting the wound with sweat and dirt.

A rumble came from Warwick. His face was impassive, but a nerve in his eye twitched.

Sucking in, his fingers slid underneath the elastic band, tugging it up over my bullet wound. I cried out in pain as he drew it over my head, ripping it off like a bandage and tossing the material next to the pants. His gaze moved down to my bare breasts, his eyes flaring, jaw clenching.

In utter pain, my nipples still hardened, my skin still tingled as his gaze trailed over me. The link was burnt out, but we still had a connection that hummed in my body. A bond that went past magic.

It was just us.

“I could try to heal you right now.” His voice was so low, it dragged over the ground, sending shivers up my spine. His fingers glided down the sides of my ribs. “Fuck you on this table.”

“Fae bullet.” I breathed out heavily. “We both need to get them out before they poison us.” Goblin metal was poison if it got into the bloodstream.

“If I wanted to watch people fuck, I’d go downstairs. Want my help or not?” Gawel snapped.

Warwick nodded, grabbing the flask off the table and unscrewing the lid, taking a gulp before handing it to me. “Drink up, princess. There’s no sedatives here.”

Blowing out, I tipped the flask into my mouth. The burn had my eyes watering, but I swallowed down as much as I could, coughing between sips.

“Damn. I’m impressed, girl.” Gawel said, though his voice sounded indifferent. “You chugged Bimber.”

My forehead furrowed.

“Basically, Polish moonshine, princess.” Warwick smirked, his hands flattening on either side of my hips. “Very potent and very illegal.” Leaning in close, he slowly slid his lips over mine, letting me taste the potency of the alcohol on his before backing away. Taking a swig, his gaze was on me, but he spoke to his friend. “You’d be awed by what this girl can take.”

Gawel’s gaze darted from Warwick to me, an eyebrow raised in surprise, but he didn’t say anything. He leaned in, inspecting my two gunshot wounds.

“Not gonna lie; this is going to hurt,” Gawel said bluntly. “Are you a screamer?”

Warwick snorted, his eyes dancing with heat. “Fuck yeah, she is.” He leaned into my ear. “I can’t take away your pain right now.” Warwick handed me back the flask. “So, drink until you can’t feel your legs.”

I tipped the flagon back, pouring the burning liquid down my throat, gulping and swallowing almost the whole thing.

“Whoa, whoa! This isn’t water, girl. This shit is hard to get, and it ain’t fuckin’ cheap.” Gawel growled, swiping back the bottle.

My chest and throat burned, the room already spinning, their voices a little more distant.

“You have to keep her quiet. I can’t have anyone hearing her.” Gawel primed the pliers between his fingers. “Here.” He handed Warwick an object.

“Kovacs?”

I blinked, looking up at Warwick, and swaying from the alcohol and blood loss.

“Bite down.” He pressed something leathery against my lips right as Gawel dug the pliers into my shoulder.

My mouth opened in a guttural scream, and Warwick shoved the leather strap into my mouth.

“Bite down like it’s me you want to tear into, princess.” He breathed in my ear. “Just focus on me.”

My teeth dug into the strap, my eyes on him, tears rolling down my face. Screams rolled around in my chest and clawed at my throat, but I didn’t stop looking at Warwick, his gaze trapping me, holding me as pain tore through my nerves.

Gawel dug in again, and my body reached its limit, exhausted, tortured, and drained of so much blood over the last few days, it broke down and let the darkness pull me under.





“Do I dare ask?” A man’s deep voice spoke, stirring me to consciousness.

“No questions, you know that.” Warwick’s resonance thrummed through me, yanking me further from my peaceful slumber.

“You show up here after years... with her,” Gawel replied. “I know who she is, Farkas. She’s in every Leopold paper.” A pause. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“You don’t understand,” Warwick rumbled. My lashes flicked open. I was still on the butcher table, but a cloth was now wrapped around my chest, covering me, my wounds stitched up. It wasn’t the injuries hurting as much as my head did. The grain alcohol pounded so hard through my veins I could hear it echo in my ears. I flinched at the pain, and the slight movement had every muscle screaming in protest. As much as I wanted to close my eyes again and disappear from the pain, his presence commanded me to stay with him.

The man was breathtaking, wearing only pants, his arm bandaged up now, his tan chest a blanket of tattoos, scars, and muscle.

Gawel scoffed. “You think you’re the first to get into a mess over some pussy.”

In a blink, Warwick slammed Gawel against the wall, his face only an inch from his, his hand knotting into the butcher’s apron.

“You say one more thing about her like that, and you will be the gutted pig.”

Gawel blinked.

“Jasna cholera.” Holy shit. Gawel muttered in Polish, staring at Warwick. It wasn’t fear which flickered over his expression but shock. “Are you in love with that girl?”