Okay, ouch. That hurt.

“What hurts?” Rhage asked.

“Sorry. Nothing. I’m sorry—it’s just been a long night.”

“I know the feeling.” He released her hands and stretched his enormous arms wide, the muscles carving out of his skin and throwing sharp shadows. “Come lay down. Let me feel like a male instead of a slab of meat—I wanna hold you.”

“You do not have to ask twice.”

Stretching out next to him on the bed, she put her head on his chest, right over his sternum, and took a deep breath. As the dark spice of his bonding scent bloomed in the air, she closed her eyes and tried to release all the chaotic recriminations that were tripping and falling around the inside of her skull, circus clowns that she found no amusement in whatsoever.

Fortunately, the contact with Rhage’s skin, his body heat, his vital presence was like a Valium without the side effects. Tension slowly left her and those bastards with the rubber noses, the bad wigs and the dumb-ass floppy shoes faded into the background.

No doubt they would be back. But she couldn’t worry about that right now.

“It’s beating so strongly again,” she murmured. “I love the sound of your heart.”

Loved also the steady rise and fall of his powerful chest.

And what do you know . . . the sight of all that smooth, hair-less skin over all those thick, heavy muscles wasn’t bad, either.

“You’re so big,” she said as she stretched her arm out and didn’t even make it around his torso.

The chuckle that rumbled through him was a little forced. But he followed it up with, “Yeah? Tell me how big I am.”

“You’re very, very big.”

“Just my chest? Or are you thinking of . . . other places?”

She knew that low drawl well . . . was utterly aware of where her mate had gone in his head—and sure enough, as she looked even further down his blanket-covered body, every inch of him was clearly still in working order, near-death experience or not.

Particularly a certain twelve inches. Give or take.

Her eyes went to the door and she wished the thing were locked. There were so many medical people around—okay, only three. But when you were interested in a little privacy, that was three too many.

As Rhage rolled his hips, that telltale thickening under the covers got a stroke that made him bite his lower lip, and Mary felt her body respond with a flush of heat. God, she hated the strange distance that had cropped up between them, that subtle disconnect she had been sensing for a while now: Somehow, even though their love hadn’t diminished, they seemed to have been losing touch with each other . . . in spite of the fact that they said their ILYs at all the right times, and slept in the same bed, and didn’t imagine being anywhere else with anybody else.

Although come to think of it, when was the last time they’d taken a night off, either one of them? Rhage had been so busy with the war and the attacks on Wrath and his throne—and ever since Bitty and her mother had come to Safe Place, Mary had had a professional preoccupation going that hadn’t left her even when she’d been technically off the clock. Hell, worrying about Bitty and Annalye had stuck with her even while she’d been asleep.

In fact, she dreamed of the little girl almost every day now.

Too long, Mary thought. It had been way too long since she and Rhage had focused on each other properly.

So, yes, even though it was a Band-Aid that would no doubt be temporary, and in spite of the public place they were in, and yup, without regard to the fact that Rhage had been dead earlier . . . Mary sneaked her hand under the sheets and moved her palm slowly down her mate’s ribbed stomach.

Rhage hissed and groaned, his pelvis rolling again, his arms straightening so that he could grip the bed rails. “Mary . . . I want you. . . .”

“My pleasure.”

His arousal was thick and long, and as she circled it, the velvet feel of him and the sounds he made in the back of his throat and the way his bonding scent flared even further were exactly the kind of up-close they needed. This was all about the two of them; nothing else was welcome—not her job, not his, not her worries, not his stress. In that respect, sex was like the best Swiffer in the world, taking away the dust and fallout from Normal Life that had dulled their connection, leaving the love they had for each other as sparkling-fresh as ever.

“Mount me,” Rhage demanded. “Get naked and get up on me.”

Mary glanced at the medical equipment that was all around his bed and wanted to curse. Talk about blips on a screen. “What about your machines? Things are starting to get really excited.”

“Weeeeeeeeeeeell, that’s ’cuz I’m starting to get really excited.”

“If they go up too much—”

Right on cue, the heart monitor’s alarm started going off shrilly. And just as Mary ripped her hand out from under, Ehlena came racing into the room.

“It’s fine,” Rhage said to the nurse with a laugh. “I’m fine—trust me.”

“I’ll just check things out—” Except then Ehlena stopped. And smiled. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Rhage had the colossal nerve to lie back like a lion about to get fed. He even winked in Mary’s general direction. “So you think maybe we can unplug me for a little bit?”

Ehlena chuckled and shook her head as she reset the machine. “Not a chance. Not until you’ve had a some more time stabilizing under your belt.”

Rhage leaned into Mary and whispered, “I want you back under my belt. That’s what I need.”

The nurse headed for the door. “I’m right down in the OR if you need me. We’re about to operate.”

Rhage frowned. “On who?”

“There were a couple of injuries. Nothing serious, though, don’t worry. Be good, you two, ’kay?”

“Thanks, Ehlena.” Mary gave the other female a wave. “You’re the best.”

As the door eased shut, Rhage dropped his voice. “Unplug me.”

“What?”

“Either you do it or I do it—but I need you, now.”

When Mary didn’t make a move, Rhage started blindly for the machines, knocking into a computer on a stand that looked like it cost more than a house.

“Rhage!” Mary started laughing as she gathered his hands and pulled them back. “Come on—”

Next thing she knew, he’d lifted her up and over his hips, settling her right on top of his erection. And yup, as soon as her weight appeared to register, that beep-beep-beep thing started speeding up again.

“You can hook me back up as soon as it’s done,” he informed her. “And even though it’ll be a sacrifice, if you only want to give me a handjob, I’ll settle for waiting for you till a little later. But I’ve come close to death once already tonight—don’t make your hellren die from the wanting.”

Mary had to smile at him. “You slay me.”

“And you could lay me? Please?”

She shook her head in spite of the fact that he couldn’t see her. “You just don’t take no for an answer, do you.”

“When it comes to you?” Rhage grew serious, his Bahama blue eyes staring blindly at her, his beautiful face growing grim. “You are both my strength and my weakness, Mary mine. So what do you say? You want to make my whole night? And may I remind you . . . I died in your arms earlier.”

Mary burst out laughing, and as she fell forward onto him, she ducked her head into his neck. “I love you so much.”

“Ahhhh, now that’s what I like to hear.” Big hands stroked over her back. “So what’s it going to be, Mary mine?”

Watching from the shadows was not the normal course for Xcor, son of no one.

As a lawless fighter and the deformed, de facto leader of a renegade team of sociopaths, he was more used to action. Preferably with his scythe. Or knife. Gun. His fists. Fangs.

He might not have been descended of the Bloodletter, as he had once believed, but he had indeed been reared by that most cruel of warriors—and the brutal lessons that had been imparted in the war camp by that hand in a spiked glove had been learned well.