16
FROM very far away, Flambé heard voices talking in hushed tones. Strong arms lifted her, turned her. She cried out when pain burst through her. Sevastyan’s voice soothed her when nothing else could. His tone was like a velvet cloth stroking a cool liquid over the burning flames consuming her skin.
“It’s all right, baby. The doc is here.” The words penetrated but they didn’t make sense to her. He rocked her. Something sharp stuck her arm. She wanted to tell them she couldn’t bleed anymore or she would die. The bleeding would just go on forever but maybe that was the best way to go. She would just quietly slip away.
“No, you’re not going to escape me, not by dying, malen’koye plamya. Let’s see what the doc can do to make this better for you. At least make you comfortable.” Cool lips brushed her eyelids.
How could she be comfortable when her leopard could never emerge? It was agony to feel the sexual hunger, the terrible craving and burning through the nerve endings that were too raw and sensitive, so much so that she couldn’t handle the change. What shifter failed her leopard like that?
“She will come out, Flambé,” that steady voice replied. So certain. Strong. No doubts. So Sevastyan. She could always count on him whether she liked it or not. Right now, she had no choice. She was a mess. She was weak. Blind. Her body shaking uncontrollably.
“We will find a way to keep you from hurting so much.” His hand moved in her hair, stroking back the damp mass from her forehead.
“Get her in the shower. Get the blood off her and then get her into the tub.” That was another male voice. Very authoritative. “She nearly tore her own skin off trying to get her leopard out.”
Two men in the room? That terrified her. She tried to struggle. Sevastyan was far too strong and she was in no shape to do anything but whimper when her raw skin pushed too hard against his.
“The doctor is here, Flambé. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She shook her head. She couldn’t get into the shower, even if the other man was a doctor. Didn’t he understand what that would do to her? The moment the water hit her skin, those drops on her already raw nerve endings would be agony. She wouldn’t be able to stand it. She’d go completely insane.
“We have to get the blood off you, baby. The moment I do, we’ll put you in the bath. There’s a compound in the water that will help to ease the sensations you’re feeling. He gave you a shot that will help as well. I know this will be bad, but only for a moment, and I’ll use the gentle rain setting. Hold on to me. Breathe with me. I’ll get you through it.”
She shook her head wildly. “Not gentle.” She could barely get the words out. Any light sensation was far worse. It caused terrible burning and painful jabbing through her body.
“I understand. Firm hold, hard rain. That’s why you like the rope.”
Sevastyan wasn’t giving her a choice. She was going to have to go under the water. She buried her face against his chest as he carried her, and his arms were tight. Although the idea of a shower was terrifying, and she’d made up her mind that Sevastyan was evil and cruel like all men, she took comfort in his presence. He was strong, solid and completely confident. She could rely on him.
Flambé could barely get her mind to work, but she was shocked that Sevastyan had brought a doctor to the house. She had never imagined that he would care that much. She could hear them still talking to each other as Sevastyan tested the water to make certain it was the proper temperature.
“She has a very rare genetic condition. There isn’t a lot of research associated with it because so few have it, and research dollars, as you know, Sevastyan, are a numbers game. I imagine there are others of her species who have the same condition.”
“Is it associated with being a hemophiliac?” Sevastyan asked. He put his lips against her ear. “Breathe, baby. I’m right here with you. Count in your head. This will only take two minutes. I’m going to lower your feet to the floor, but I won’t let you fall.”
She tried not to tense up. She wanted to hear the conversation. They were talking about her. Not just her. Other strawberry leopards. Sevastyan kept one arm around her as he allowed her feet to drop to the floor. She was dizzy, swaying. Her stomach protested. Lurched with the need to vomit. She tried to concentrate on the conversation.
“No, although, in this instance, both are genetic.”
The moment the water hit her skin she forgot all about listening and heard herself scream. A thousand knives stabbed point first deep into her body, causing an indescribable agony, but along with that, white-hot flames burned along every nerve ending, sending conflicting messages through her. Her breath slammed out of her lungs as Sevastyan used a handheld sprayer to remove the blood that had seeped from her pores and coated her body. The tears she’d made in her skin where she’d torn strips off with her own fingernails when the pain was too severe and her leopard had been so desperate were on fire all over again.
“Stop, stop, you have to stop.” She wasn’t above begging. Tears burned in her eyes and she didn’t care that he saw.
“Almost over, baby, I’m sorry. I know it hurts.” It didn’t matter that he sounded soft and soothing, or that he wanted to hold her close and rock her.
She didn’t know what to feel. How to feel. Her body was insane. “I can
’t take this. I really can’t. I can’t do this anymore, Sevastyan.” She couldn’t. He didn’t understand what it was like to be trapped in such an ugly cycle.
He turned off the water and lifted her again, his arms strong and tight. She hadn’t managed to open her eyes and she didn’t want to. She was too humiliated, afraid she was everything Mitya had implied. She was in agony and yet her body was desperate for sex. Burning. She couldn’t stop sobbing and she didn’t care that there were witnesses.
“Statistics show most are lost to suicide,” the other voice said. “No one can stay in that state for so long and survive. It’s so much worse for a shifter, particularly a female in a heat.”
“Well, that’s not happening to her,” Sevastyan declared, as if by his decree, she would obey. He sounded fierce.
He sank into the bath water, Flambé cradled in his arms as if she meant something to him. She felt as if she did when she was this close to him. It was so strange how he could make her feel that way, especially after being in the ropes. That was when he held her the tightest, the way the ropes did, locked to him, the pressure firm, not at all light, aggravating the sensation in her nerves. She braced herself as the water closed over her body, almost to her neck. Instead of hurting her, there seemed to be a soothing quality to it.
She tipped her face up and did her best to open her eyes, although that hurt even to make that small move.