They got to her apartment as they snow became heavy. .
"Sit." She pointed to the couch. "I'm going to check your bandages."
"Freya already?—"
"Sit, lion." The command in her voice made his spine straighten reflexively. "Or I'll make you."
He sat, fighting a smile as she disappeared. She returned with a first aid kit that looked better stocked than some clinics, her movements efficient as she knelt between his legs.
"Shirt off." Her fingers found the hem. "Carefully."
He obeyed, hissing when the fabric pulled at the claw marks on his back. She helped ease it over his head, her touch gentle despite her earlier bossiness.
Her sharp intake of breath made him tense. "That bad?"
"You took hits meant for children." Her fingers traced the air near the worst gouges, not quite touching. "For families who couldn't defend themselves."
"That's the job." He caught her hand, made her look at him. "Protecting people. Protecting you. It's what I'm here for."
"You're not here to be my shield." She leaned forward, her forehead resting against his chest. "You're here to stand beside me."
"Can't I do both?"
Her lips curved against his skin, warm and soft. "Let me clean these properly. Freya's good, but I'm better."
She worked in focused silence, removing bandages, cleaning wounds with solutions that stung but felt cleaner than Freya's herbs. Her hands moved with confidence born of years managing a rough tavern, dealing with drunk shifters and the occasional bar fight.
"You're good at this." He watched her face, seeing concentration mixed with concern. "Taking care of people."
"I've had practice." She applied fresh bandages to his shoulder, her touch feather-light. "The Silver Fang sees its share of injuries. Comes with the territory."
"Not just the physical stuff." He caught her wrist when she moved to his ribs. "You take care of this whole town. Made them feel safe, welcome, valued. That's a gift, Maeve."
Color touched her cheeks. "You're delirious from blood loss."
"I'm clear-headed for the first time in a decade." He pulled her up, settling her on his lap carefully to avoid his injuries. "You're remarkable. I hope you know that."
"I know I'm bossy and stubborn and occasionally violent." But she softened into his hold, her head tucking under his chin.
"All qualities I adore." He kissed her temple, breathing her in. "Among others."
They sat like that for long minutes, just being close, feeling each other breathe. The apartment was quiet except for the distant sounds of Hollow Oak rebuilding, life returning to normal after chaos.
"Does it hurt?" Her voice came muffled against his chest.
"Not when you're touching me." True enough. Her presence made everything more bearable.
She lifted her head, those gold-flecked eyes searching his. "I could make it hurt less."
"Yeah?" His body responded immediately despite exhaustion. "How?"
"Distraction." Her smile turned wicked as her fingers found his belt buckle. "Very thorough distraction."
"I'm injured." But he was already hardening under her touch, his lion purring approval.
"I'll be gentle." She slid off his lap, kneeling between his legs again but with entirely different intent. "Mostly."
His protest died when she freed him from his jeans, her hand wrapping around his length with confident pressure. "Maeve."
