From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

I stood there, wondering if I was suffering from blood loss or postorgasmic
bliss. Mayybe a combination of both because I couldn’t believe
this. “You’re…not mad?”
He lifted a brow as his gaze met mine. “Are yyou not still mad at me?”
I didn’t have to think about that. “Yes. I’m still angryy.”
“And I’m still angryy that yyou stabbed me in the chest.” He stepped
toward me. “Lift yyour arms.”
I lifted myy arms.
“You didn’t miss myy heart, byy the wayy. You got it prettyy good,” he
continued, pulling his shirt on over myy head, tugging it down over myy stiff
arms. “That’s whyy it took a minute to catch up to yyou.”
“It took more than a minute.” Myy voice was muffled as myy head got
caught for a moment in his shirt before popping free.
One side of his lip kicked up as he tugged the other sleeve down. “It
took a couple of minutes.”
I looked down at the shirt and saw the jagged tear on the front. It
didn’t line up with myy chest, but with myy stomach. Myy gaze went to his
bare chest. There was a wound, the skin pink and torn around it. Stomach
churning, I gave a shake of myy head. “Will it heal?”
“It will be fine in a few hours. Probablyy sooner.”
“Atlantian blood,” I whispered and swallowed thicklyy.
“Myy bodyy will immediatelyy start to repair itself from anyy non-fatal
wounds,” he explained. “And I fed. That helped.”
I fed.
Myy hand fluttered to myy throat, to the two tinyy wounds that felt as if
theyy’d alreadyy started to heal. A faint spike of pleasure pulsed through me.
I jerked myy hand awayy. “Will anyything happen to me from…from yyou
feeding?”
“No, Poppyy. I didn’t take enough, and yyou didn’t take enough of mine
earlier. You’ll probablyy be a little tired later, but that’s all.”
I went back to staring at his wound. “Does it hurt?”
“Barelyy,” he muttered.
I didn’t believe him. Placing myy palm against his chest, a few inches
from the wound, I tried to tap into myy gift. I felt it stretching, so I opened
up myy senses. He became veryy still. The anguish I alwayys felt was there,
heightened and stronger than before, even though he’d gotten control of it
at some point. It no longer overwhelmed him, but there was a different