*Frannie*
I’m close to panic. “Dear Goddess. How badly are you hurt? Can you make it up the stairs? I want to have a look, see how…”
He wraps his hand around my neck, surprisingly strong, holding me near. “If I’m to die,” he rasps, “let me do so… with the taste of you upon my lips.”
Without his usual finesse, he plants his mouth over mine. I tell myself that he can’t be mortally wounded if his hand still holds such strength and his mouth such passion.
It’s a strange fluke of fate that he jerked my attacker off me just as I was plunging a knife toward his midsection. Greywind, with his heroics, is now spilling his blood over himself and me. So damned much blood.
I push against him. “You fool. You’re going to bleed to death.”
“It’s a mere scratch.”
“Then you’re an even bigger fo
