Healed

Liz sat in stunned silence, her mind whirling. The healer's revelation felt surreal as if she had just been thrust into a bizarre, chaotic dream. Callan lay there, weak and bleeding, his breathing ragged.

She glanced at Callan, who was trying to keep his smirk despite the pain. "Did you put everyone up to this? Is this a sick scheme of yours to get me in bed with you?" Liz accused Callan."

Callan's smirk faltered, and he looked up at her with pain in his grey eyes. "I wish," he said, his voice weak but earnest. "I didn't plan any of this. The demon poisoned me and the healer's right—my incubus nature means that this is the only way to save me. It's not a trick. It's not a game."

Liz's anger softened slightly, though she still felt a surge of betrayal. "I just don't get…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Stop being a cold bitch and help the man," Ronan roared.