Without hesitation, Amia approached Prest. "Do not step in the blood," Dedari cautioned her, his dark eyes watchful. If Prest made one wrong move toward Amia, there was no doubt in Jacob's mind that Prest would be a dead man. Amia was unafraid, ignoring both Dedari and Jacob as if they were invisible.
"Prest," she whispered softly, almost intimately. Her eyes were on the savage crimson streaks on his chest and face. "Come with me now. I have need to heal your wounds."
Despite his ferocious growls, she laid her hand gently on Prest's arm, careful to stay away from the blood coating his clothing. "Come with me, brother. Allow me to heal you."
Prest's head swung around, red eyes glowing fiercely. For a moment his eyes switched between red and black, as if the man fought the beast within for their shared body and mind. "I am not your brother, little one," he hissed, struggling to overcome the killing rage.
