He didn’t need to ponder why Harper hadn’t drawn attention to her condition. But he already knew the answer to that: she’d sooner die along with the incorporeal than have it be free to harm Asher. His demon wanted to spank her pretty ass for being so ready to sacrifice herself. Knox wasn’t at all averse to the idea.
He telepathically reached out to Keenan. Harper and I are home, but I need you to keep Asher downstairs. He gave the sentinel a brief summary of what had happened at the café.
Son of a bitch, spat Keenan. Will she be okay?
Yes, she will. Knox wouldn’t have it any other way. Reach out to Levi and explain what happened. Knox’s focus needed to be on Harper. Breaking the connection with his sentinel, he touched his housekeeper’s mind and said, Meg, I need hot water bottles for Harper. She was attacked, and she’s ice-cold. Bring them to the master bedroom.
I’ll be as quick as I can, replied Meg, sounding frantic.
Just as frantic, Knox stared down at Harper. His mate never looked weak. But right then, huddled into a tight ball, she looked so delicate it made Knox’s chest tighten. Every rough breath sounded like it was sawing at her throat. Being upset with her, letting her sleep alone and then leaving before she woke—it all seemed so stupid now. Stupid and petty and beneath him. She’d deserved none of it.
He kissed her hair. “I’m sorry I was a shit, baby,” he said, unsure if she was even properly aware of where she was or who she was with.
One by one, the other sentinels telepathed him questions, wanting to be sure that Harper was fine. He answered their queries but was far too furious to sound reassuring.
Meg bustled into the room with a hot water bottle that was wearing a chunky knitted cover. “I could only find one,” she said, anxiously. “Here, put it near one of her major arteries.”
Satisfied that it wasn’t so hot it would burn her skin, Knox tucked the water bottle under Harper’s armpit and then pulled her blanket tighter around her, hoping to trap the heat and hot air inside it.
Twisting her fingers, Meg asked, “Should I make her a hot chocolate?”
“I don’t think she could drink it, Meg. She’s shaking too badly.”
“Watch out for chilblains and frostbite. Can she get those things if she hasn’t really been out in the cold?”
“I don’t know.” He gently touched her dry mouth. “Get her some lip balm or something,” he ordered, and Meg swiftly disappeared. He should have felt like a bastard for being so gruff, but he didn’t have tact in him right then. Not when he was so worried for Harper. He didn’t like how slow and shallow her breaths were. Didn’t like how weak her pulse was or how her muscles kept spasming.
“Baby, I need you to be okay,” he whispered, breezing his fingers over her cheekbone. Like her lips, the skin on her cheeks and forehead had cracked. “You hear me? You have to be okay.”
Her chapped lips trembled, but she didn’t respond.
With Dan trailing behind her, Meg came back into the bedroom holding a tub of Vaseline. “This will help.”
When she unscrewed the lid, Knox dipped his finger inside and then gently spread the Vaseline over Harper’s lips.
“Is there anything I can do?” asked Dan.
“Help Meg and Keenan watch over Asher for me,” said Knox. “I’m not leaving Harper’s side until I know that she’s fine.”
As both Dan and Meg melted out of the room, closing the door behind them, Harper’s eyes fluttered open again. She stuttered words that he couldn’t quite make out.
If you really need to talk, do it mind-to-mind, Knox told her.
My skin is prickling and tingling, she said.
That’s good. It means it’s beginning to thaw. But that didn’t bring him any relief. Even when her pulse began to steady and her trembling eased a little, he didn’t settle. Couldn’t. Not until she was one hundred percent okay. Maybe not even then.
Still, taking a deep breath, he did his best to rein in his anger. She’d be fine, he assured himself. She was safe. Alive. Right there in his arms. But it was hard to find calm when his demon’s own anger still bubbled within Knox’s veins. Stroking her skin, he inhaled deeply, l
etting the feel and scent of her calm the chaos in his mind.
Knox glanced down at the ring on his finger that was studded with black diamonds. He hadn’t imagined he’d ever completely commit himself to another person, let alone ever wear a symbol of commitment. But he wore it with pride—even smugness. That same satisfaction always filled him when he looked at the rings on her own finger.
He was not an easy anchor, and he was an even more difficult mate. It would probably always astonish him that Harper had accepted his claim on her. She’d changed everything. Brought out emotions in him that he’d never before felt. Emotions he’d never thought he could feel. He needed her. Fucking adored her. And now he needed to fix his fuck-up.
He lay there with her for what could have been hours, holding her close, rubbing her skin, talking to her in a low, soothing voice. Her skin eventually warmed, and she slipped into a restless sleep. He just continued to hold her, stroking her hair and skin.
At one point, Tanner’s mind touched his. How’s Harper? Any better?