While sitting in the car on their way to Thierry Nicolet’s mansion in Kensington, Nevaeh noticed the bandage just barely under the collar of Levi’s dress shirt. Picking back the white neckline at his throat, she eyed the gauze and then lifted a brow in silent question.
“Mine hasn’t healed yet either,” he whispered in her ear. “But I wouldn’t touch it if I were you. I don’t need you throwing up all over me.” He ribbed her and she dropped her hand immediately. Her eyes tracked the three white claw scars that started at his earlobe and raced over his jaw, disappearing under the bandage. The demon must not have dug in deep enough there and the scratch was able to mend.
Ofa and Gamma Rhys sat across from them in the limousine, holding hands as Ofa leaned her head on her mate’s sho
