"Goddamn suckheads," Gideon hissed as he raked a hand through his hair. "I'll go prep a room for her in the infirmary."
"No." Dante's reply was sharper than intended, and unyielding. He held out his scored wrist, the skin still red and wet at the place he'd fed her. "She is mine. She stays with me."
Gideon's eyes widened, but he said nothing more. Nor did anyone else, as Dante brushed past the group of warriors and headed with Tess down the maze of hallways to his private quarters. Once inside, he brought her into the bedroom and gently placed her on the king-size bed. He kept the lights dim, his voice soft and low, as he set about trying to make her comfortable.
With a mental command, he willed the bathroom sink on, running warm water into the basin as he carefully removed the makeshift bandages that covered Tess's wrist and neck. She had stopped bleeding, thankfully. Her wounds were raw and hideous on her flawless skin, but the worst of the injuries was past.
Seeing the ugly marks left by the Rogues who attacked her, Dante wished he had Tess's healing touch. He wanted to erase the injuries before she had a chance to see them, but he couldn't work that kind of miracle. His blood would heal her from within, replenish her body and give her a preternatural vitality she' d never known. Over time, if she fed from him regularly as his mate, her health would be ageless. In time the scars would mend too. Not soon enough for him. He wanted to tear her attackers apart all over again, torture them slowly instead of delivering the efficient death the Rogues had received.
The need for violence, for vengeance against every Rogue who could ever harm her, seethed through him like acid. Dante tamped the urge down, throwing all of his energy into tending Tess with reverent, gentle hands. He eased her out of her bloodstained jacket, peeling off the sleeves and then lifting her slack body to free her of it. The pullover sweater she wore beneath was ruined as well, the celery-colored wool soaked a garish red around the neck and the edge of the long sleeve.
He would have to cut the sweater off; no way he was going to try to pull it over her head and disturb the nasty bite wound at her throat. Retrieving one of the daggers sheathed at his hip, he slid the blade under the hem and ripped a clean line up the center of the garment. The soft wool fell away, exposing Tess's creamy torso and the peach-hued lace of her bra.
A sexual stirring roused within him, as automatic as breathing, as he looked down on the perfection of her skin, the sweetly feminine curves of her body. Seeing her always brought out his hunger, but seeing her marked by rough Rogue hands put a steadying calm in him that trumped even the strength of his base desire to possess her.
She was safe now, and that was all he needed.
Dante set the blade down on the nightstand, then removed Tess's ruined sweater and dropped it next to the jacket beside the bed. The room was warm, but her skin was still cool to the touch. Pulling the edge of the black silk comforter from the other side of his large bed, he covered her, then went into the bathroom to get a soapy washcloth and a fresh towel to clean her up. As he came back out to the bedroom, he heard a quiet rap on the open door of his quarters, too soft to belong to any of the warriors.
"Dante?" Savannah's velvety voice was even softer than her knock. She came in carrying a handful of ointments and medicines, her dark, gentle eyes filled with sympathy. Lucan's mate, Gabrielle, was with her, the auburn-haired Breedmate holding a plush robe over her arm. "We heard what happened and thought we'd bring a few things to help make her more comfortable."
"Thank you."
He watched idly from the bedside as the other women approached to set down their items. His main focus was on Tess. He lifted her hand and carefully swept the edge of the warm washcloth over the crusted blood on her wrist, his strokes as light as he could manage with his large clumsy hands that were better suited to holding firearms or steel.
"Is she all right?" Gabrielle asked from behind him. "Lucan said you put her to your vein to save her."
Dante nodded, but he felt no pride over what he'd done. "She'll hate me for it when she understands what it means. She doesn't know that she's a Breedmate. She doesn't know... what I am."
He was stunned to feel a small hand light reassuringly on his shoulder. "Then you should tell her, Dante. Don't put it off. Trust her enough that she will make sense of the truth, even if she is resistant to accept it at first."
"Yes," he said, "I know she deserves the truth."
He was gratified by Gabrielle's sympathetic gesture and by the soundness of her advice. She spoke from experience, after all. The female had been through her own astonishing truth with Lucan just a few months earlier. Although the pair were inseparable ever since and clearly in love, Lucan and Gabrielle's journey had been anything but smooth. None of the warriors knew the specifics, but Dante could guess that Lucan and his stony, remote nature hadn't made it easy for either of them.
Savannah stepped up next to him at the bed now. "After you clean her wounds, put some of this ointment on them. Along with your blood in her system, the medicine will help speed the healing and lessen her scars."
"Okay." Dante took the jar of homemade remedy and set it down on the nightstand. "Thank you. Both of you."
The women gave him understanding smiles, then Savannah bent to pick up Tess's soiled jacket and sweater.
"I don't think these will be of any use to her now." The instant her fingers closed around the clothing, her smooth features pinched. She closed her eyes, wincing. Her breath caught, then leaked out of her in a shaky sigh. "My Lord, the poor thing. The attack on her was so... savage. Did you know they nearly bled her dry?"