“Okay. Good job, you did so well, Bow. Do you wanna take the other one off?”
“Yeah.”
He let me tip his head back, those beautiful eyes finding mine and resting there. I brushed my thumbs against his temple, slid my fingers down to the muzzle, feeling my way to the back and never taking my gaze from his.
He whimpered when I pulled it off his face. “Did that hurt you?”
His eyes welled, but he shook his head the tiniest bit. “No.”
I set the muzzle by the collar and smiled at him. “All done.”
He looked terrified, and I couldn’t help cupping his cheeks and pressing a hard kiss to his forehead. “It’s okay. It’s over. It’s done. You’re okay.”
I kneeled between his legs again, keeping my hands on him as I let my gaze drift over him.
“I’m gonna wash you off real quick, okay?”
He nodded and watched me grab a cloth that was waiting in a bowl of water. I gently smoothed it over his cheeks and neck, taking away the last of the grime, the final remnants of his suffering.
His neck looked similar to his face; white and pink grooves had formed where the collar rubbed the most. Smooth scartissue, skin that had been rubbed raw for years and years and years.
He’d bear those scars for the rest of his life, but he would never have to wear those fucking things again.
He lifted his fingers to his face, slowly bringing them to his cheeks and touching the grooves that had been worn into his skin. He gasped, his eyes flashing to mine, wide with surprise.
Was he upset he had scars?
“Don’t let those bother you. Unless they hurt? Do they?—”
Tears welled in his eyes, and a broad, beautiful smile stretched across his face.
My breath caught in my throat as I stared at him, an unprecedented feeling swelling in my chest so fast I thought I was about to burst wide open.
“Oh,” he said softly, moving his fingers to his mouth and tracing his smile. It only got wider, and a tear spilled down the left side of his face. He laughed, then kept stroking his lips, as if he was enraptured by the feel of his own mouth, as if it was the very first time he’d ever touched it.
For all I knew, it was.
With quick movements, he reached into his pocket and pulled out?—
The compact mirror. He’d been carrying that around with him?
He cracked it open and stared at his reflection, awe and wonder and pure, unfiltered happiness in every inch of his face, his eyes, his being.
I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life than him, right now, seeing himself like this. Free. Just Bowen, unchained, unrestrained, completely, utterly, entrancingly free.
“You’re beautiful,” I said, and my voice was a hoarse whisper because my throat had thickened so much.
His glistening eyes lifted from the mirror and locked onto mine, the rawest emotions radiating from him in slow, deep bursts that felt like they were curling around me, drawing me forward.
A tear spilled over his lashes, racing down his cheek. Then another. The wobbly smile he gave me was the purest, most precious thing I’d ever seen.
That I’d ever been given.
“Cain,” he choked out. His throat sounded thicker than mine. His eyes lowered to my mouth, and he launched himself up and wrapped his arms around my neck.
“Whoa.” I caught him against me, holding him tight as he wound his legs around my waist and locked his ankles together.
He tilted his face up, eyes riveted to my lips, and didn’t wait a second longer to close the distance between us.
