She winced as she shifted, and the lamplight haloed her split lip, the bruise blooming orchid-purple at her temple, the thick welt on her jaw.
“You’re shaking,” she observed.
Am I?
“It’s just a bandage—”
“No.” The protest ripped raw from my throat. “It’syou.”
Her lips parted in something like wonder, and every rational protocol dissolved, antiseptics abandoned, triage checklist incinerated. She clung to my elbows as I framed her face in my palms and stared into her eyes.
He doesn’t like me, does he?
A dozen concerns screamed for attention: Suture kit, gauze packages, trauma shears in my back pocket…
Let them wait.
Here, now, the only security she needed was my hands learning how to cradle instead of command.
#
Seri
My body felt like it was betraying me, reacting to Casimir in ways I didn’t understand.
My skin tingled where it touched his, and my heart was beating faster than it should have been. I could feel the mate bond between us, a hum of connection, but it was all so confusing. I didn’t know what it meant to be this close to someone, to feel a man’s warmth and strength and scent so intimately. All I knew was that it made me want to burrow deeper into his arms, even as it scared me.
His practicality was oddly comforting. He didn’t coddle me, didn’t try to sugarcoat things. He justwas, steady and unshakable, and somehow that made me feel safer than any gentle words could have.
He took care of my ankle first, fussing at me sternly the whole time, and threatened to make me use crutches if I didn’t let them carry me everywhere. I didn’t mind them doing that; I just forgot to ask. I was used to pushing through pain, not having three giants hovering around just waiting for a chance to jump in and help me.
After rewrapping my ankle, he eased my cardigan off, and shivers racked me almost immediately. He rolled up my shirt sleeve, but I was so cold, my whole body shook, and the fabric kept sliding right back down.
“You’re going to have to take your shirt off,” he muttered at last.
“You’re going to have an icicle for a wife if I do,” I complained quietly.
“I’ll thaw you out after we’re done.”
I blinked at that, wondering what he meant, then blinked again when I saw red steal over the tips of his ears.
I wasn’t exactly comfortable sitting on the couch in my bra, but knew he needed access to Claudio’s ‘lesson,’ so I endured the embarrassment and kept myself distracted by pulling my hair over my right shoulder to keep it out of the way.
Besides, he’d probably say something like, ‘Modesty impedes treatment,’I thought to myself with a secret smile.
“Ready?” he said, not looking up as he rolled his own sleeves past his corded forearms, then snapped on a pair of exam gloves.
His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, something sharp and focused. I perched on the edge of the couch, my hands clutching my discarded shirt to my chest for something to hold onto.
“I guess?”
“Good enough.”
His fingers were gentle and steady, but taking off the bandage was still torturous, especially when the gauze stuck, and a glance at the cut turned my stomach. I didn’t want him touching it, no matter what my brain said about how dangerous an infection could be.
Which was why, when he gripped my elbow, I pulled away.
“Seri? It needs to be drained again, and you’ve popped three stitches—”
