The thing was, Ella did not want to be healed. She didn’t want any medical attention until she knew that Alek was alright. Maybe it was ridiculous to feel this way, but she wasn’t about to let herself feel better when she had been the one who had failed so miserably. She was pretty sure that she was only meant for three things in her life and one of those things was keeping Alek safe. She’d brought him here to save him from their father and now look where he was. She closed her stinging eyes as his mouth descended upon each of her wounds in turn, almost hating herself for enjoying the way he made them his, made them burn with his teeth, his tongue. It was impossible to not enjoy it, though; it was impossible to find to much fault in herself for find his touch irresistible.
She’d deal with him wanting her to get the necessary medical attention if and when the topic was breached.
Finally, his mouth was on hers again and hers moved against his with such ferocity that it was impossible for her to even keep everything--all the emotion and frustration and pain and desire--that she was pouring in to it straight in her own mind. Every single time, the way they moved together was even more intense than the time before and this time was no exception. Curling her fingers against his chest, she made her own wounds on his skin. He may have been physically healed, but she wanted her markings to be the last ones that had broken his skin. His blood belonged to her, not to some fucker in the alley who thought he could attack them and walk away alive. Her mouth pulled away from his as she dipped her chin and dug her teeth into his neck until she tasted copper on her tongue.
Her body moved against his, despite the way her bones told her that moving was not an option. She rolled her hips forward, pressing closer against him, wanting to remember that they were both still very much alive, still very much capable of this, always. If she could get a handle on that part of her thoughts, she could figure out how to make everything right for Alek, again, too.
Terrence wasn’t really thinking, letting his physical instincts and desires take him over. His mind could go fuck itself, honestly; he would have cut his own head off if that would have solved the problem. But it wouldn’t, he knew it wouldn’t. Transforming probably wouldn’t help either, since he kept his own mind as a hyena; it made him feel much better when he was tired of his two-legged body and its restraints, but he doubted it would help him now. He might try it, later, but there was really nothing that could make him feel better than being right here, with Ella.
He kept his eyes on her as he kissed her back, taking everything she was giving him and giving it right back, along with the fire that was burning inside him. What exactly was wrong with him, he didn’t know, but he hated it, hated how weak it made him feel. He had left a fight before it was finished; he had never done that before, ever. Never thought that he would do anything except see a fight to its very end, especially an important battle like the one he’d faced on Saturday. He knew he couldn’t have stayed, didn’t feel guilty or responsible for Ella’s injuries or Alek being in the hospital, but he hated that his reasons for leaving them to fend for themselves existed in the first place.