"You're staring," she says quietly.
"Sorry." I meet her eyes and smile. "You're just really fucking beautiful. It catches me off guard sometimes."
Her laugh is completely disbelieving. "You're hopeless."
"Also guilty," Rowan agrees, but he's looking at her with the same reverence I feel. "But we're right. You're stunning, Regina."
She doesn't respond to that, but the blush creeping into her ears now has nothing to do with the steam beginning to fill the room. She's not used to this, somehow. Not used to being wanted openly, honestly, without ulterior motives.
We're going to change that.
The shower is more than big enough for three, though it's still a cozy fit with two alpha males. Regina stands under the spray, letting the hot water cascade over her while Rowan and I flank her on either side.
True to my word, I'm keeping my hands innocent even if my mind isn't. Although I guess "innocent" is a relative term when you're naked with your mate.
"Here." Rowan offers her a bottle of shampoo. "May I?"
She hesitates, then nods. "Sure."
He pours some into his palm and begins working it through her long dark hair, his movements careful and thorough. Regina's eyes flutter closed, a small sound of contentment escaping her.
"That feels amazing."
"Told you," I say, reaching for the body wash. "Can I get your back?"
Another nod, and I start working the soap across her shoulders, my thumbs digging gently into the knots I find there. She's carrying so much tension, years of it stored in her muscles. I want to work every bit of it loose.
"You don't have to—" she starts.
"We want to," Rowan cuts her off, still massaging the shampoo through her hair. "Let us take care of you."
"It's weird," she murmurs. "Being... pampered. I've never—" She stops abruptly, jaw tightening.
"Never what?" I keep my voice gentle, my hands steady on her back.
"Nothing. It doesn't matter."
"It matters to us." Rowan guides her under the spray to rinse the shampoo. "You can tell us. Or not. No pressure."
She's quiet for a long time while he works conditioner through her hair. I continue the massage, moving down her spine, feeling the gradual loosening of her muscles as the hot water and our attention do their work.
"Kyle never touched me like this," she finally murmurs. "It was always about what he could get from me. My magic, my body, my status as the Thirteenth… everything was transactional."
My hands still on her back. Through our bond, I feel Rowan's anger flare just like mine. Hot and sharp and deadly. But we both swallow it down. She needs comfort right now, not our rage.
"That's not how bonds are supposed to work," I say carefully. "Not any kind of bond. Coven, pack, mate—none of it should feel like a transaction."
"I know that now." She turns slightly, water streaming down her face, washing away tears I hadn't noticed forming in her eyes. "But for five years, that was my normal. Everything I didwas calculated against what it would cost me, what Kyle would demand in return. Even resting was something I had to earn."
Rowan's hands pause in her hair. "Earn how?"
"Enough magical output. Enough spells for his clients. Enough..." She swallows hard. "Enough compliance. If I questioned anything, if I pushed back on any of his decisions, he'd cut off my access to the coven's energy. Let me drain down until I could barely function. Then act like he was doing me a favor by letting me feed again."
My wolf is snarling now, straining against my control. I want to find Kyle Starbridge and tear him apart piece by piece for what he did to our mate. But I force my hands to stay gentle on her skin, force my voice to stay calm.
"That's abuse," I say flatly. "That's what abusers do. They isolate, they manipulate, they make you feel like you're the problem."
"I know." Her voice breaks slightly. "I know that now. But when you're in it, when it's all you've known for years... it feels normal. It feels like you must be the crazy one, because everyone else seems to think he's perfect."
