Vivian laid her head on her arm, breathing between heaves, and nodded to her mate. Cooling off would likely help, and he seemed sincere. No matter how long she heaved, or how hard nothing came up, and finally exhaustion won, and her sore ribs got relief. Using his steady body to balance herself, she eased into the tub, clinging to his arm.<br/><br/>Dark eyes relaxed as the cool water took away some of the fevered ache and nausea. Her whole body slowly relaxed, her eyes fighting to remain locked to the dragon's. She should be angry, afraid, or any number of things that flew but left her only tired. She had never taken this long to heal from wounds before, and she still felt sore and tender around her womanhood and in her lower belly.<br/><br/>Her exhaustion won out, and her eyes closed, her breathing returning to calm after all the work of trying to lose something that wasn't there in the first place. She didn't require food like other demons, so puking was odd in every sense for her. Demons like her could get sick, but it was very few and far between. Had the stress of mating weakened her, or maybe the wounds? Nothing but her core felt sore.<br/><br/>"Marcus," she whispered, "Are any of my wounds infected?" Hopefully it would be that, and it would be easy for her to spell the wound healed and be able to celebrate her mating. She was sure that Jarin would need to know, and others in the company before she called and spoke with her father. That was the last conversation she wanted to have.