"Yes," I murmur. "How did you know that would help?"
He doesn't answer right away, his eyes focusing on something far away. There's a darkness in them, a shadow of old pain that makes me wonder again about his own scars. After a moment, he slowly signs with his free hand.
G-U-E-S-S-E-D.
But how? How did he guess? I want to ask, but the sadness in his eyes stops me. Some wounds shouldn't be prodded. And I'm not about to explain what happened to my mark and why, either.
Especially not the alpha who marked me.
Instead, I let myself relax more fully against him, giving in to the comfort he offers. His strong chest rises and falls against my cheek, his heart beating steady and strong beneath my ear in a rhythm that almost feels like it syncs with my own.
My eyelids grow heavier with each passing minute, the medicine doing its work, my body surrendering to its need for healing sleep. The last thing I register before drifting off is the gentle pressure of Wraith's hand adjusting the blanket around my shoulders, the careful way he makes sure I'm completely covered.
Safe. I feelsafe.
It would terrify me to have this level of trust in any other alpha. But as consciousness slips away, I can't find it in me to be afraid.
Not of him.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
WRAITH
Time crystallizes into this single perfect moment.
The omega sleeps against my chest, her breathing deep and even. Her body, so slight compared to mine, fits against me like she was made to be there. One of her hands rests over my heart, her fingers occasionally twitching in sleep.
I don't dare move.
Don't dare breathe too deeply.
Don't dare shatter this impossible thing.
Trust.
That's what this is.
A wounded omega has chosen to sleep in the arms of an alpha.
Not just any alpha, butme.
A scarred, mute, terrifying feral monster.
Her wild honeysuckle scent rises through the cologne she frantically sprayed around the room. I know what she was doing.The flush on her cheeks. The quickened pulse at her throat. The unmistakable honeyed musk of her arousal that no amount of cologne could fully mask from an alpha's sharpened senses.
Especially not mine.
I'm not stupid. I know what happened. Know she was touching herself in my bed, seeking relief from the beginnings of her heat.
But I would never embarrass her by making it obvious I know. She matters more than my alpha instincts that growlmine, mine, minewith every breath I take.
I carefully adjust the blanket around her shoulders with my free hand. The other remains pressed over the burn scar where a mark used to be, right by the juncture of her neck and shoulder. I can sense it like poison in her skin.
Hemarkedher.
And she burned it off.
