He tamped down his questions, focusing on the task at hand. The woman watched him through half-lidded eyes, her breaths growing steadier as she relaxed as he worked. Carefully maneuvering around her injuries, Monte managed to get her out of her ripped clothes, leaving her in her undergarments.
Monte knew better than to attempt to remove those too, regardless how soiled they were, knowing how humans were with nudity—especially females. The last thing he wanted was to make the situation any worse than it was and figured he could wait until he called the Lone Lake Pack for a healer. He would request assistance from a female healer in bathing and dressing his injured guest as well as purchase fresh clothing from the pack for her.
“I will fetch water and my first aid kit.” Monte rose to his hooves. “First, let me light the fire, and I’ll be back. I promise.”
Monte took a step back, his eyes lingering on the woman’s injured form.
“Thank you,” the female mumbled, her gaze flickering over his sharp horns and furry tail.
“You’re welcome,” he replied gruffly before he turned away to start a fire in the fireplace.
Once the fire was crackling, he grabbed some bandages and the limited medical supplies from his first aid kit under his mudroom’s sink.
The sudden flash of lightning illuminated the dark sky outside the cabin followed by a deafening boom of thunder. Sheets of rain poured down, shadowy outlines of tree branches scraping against the windows. The torrential rain hammered down on the roof, distorting the sight beyond the windows and putting a curtain between them and the outside world, adding to the sense of chaos.
Monte returned swiftly, his arms laden with a basin of warm water, clean cloths, and a rudimentary first aid kit. Setting everything down on the low table beside the couch, he knelt once more at the female’s side.
Dipping a cloth into the water, Monte began to clean the wounds with gentle dabs, his brow furrowed in concentration. She hissed as the cloth made contact with a particularly deep cut, her body tensing.
“Shh,” Monte soothed, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. “I know it hurts, but I must clean these properly.”
The human nodded, gritting her teeth as Monte continued his work. With great focus, he kept his touch gentle yet firm as he wiped away the blood and grime.
As he cleaned the wounds, Monte found himself studying her face, taking in her delicate features and the way her blonde hair fanned out against the decorative pillow. She was beautiful, he realized, with a strength and resilience that shone through despite her injuries.
Shaking himself mentally, Monte focused on applying antiseptic to the wounds. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by such thoughts, not when her well-being depended on him.
“Why are you helping me?” the female asked suddenly, her voice hoarse. “You don’t even know me.”
Monte paused and tilted his head, considering his answer. “You were in need,” he said simply. “I could not leave you to suffer.”
“But you’re...” She trailed off, her eyes flickering to his horns and fur-covered body.
“A monster?” Monte finished, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Perhaps. But even monsters have hearts.” He flicked his gaze to hers, hoping she could see the sincerity in his eyes. “I would’ve been one if I’d left you behind in the condition that I found you in, don’t you agree?”
“You’re right,” she whispered, frowning as her eyebrows furrowed. “What’s your name?”
“Monte,” he replied, flicking his ears back with embarrassment.
“And you live in the mountains?”
“Where else are we?” Monte snorted and with a damp cloth in hand, gestured to the torrential rainstorm outside and then at her. “What’s yours?”
“Kiri.”
“Yours isn’t that much better.” Then Monte cleared his throat and placed the soiled rag into the basin. “Anyway, now that we know each other’s names, I need to stitch this wound,” he said, gesturing to the gash on her side. “It will be painful, but it must be done.”
Kiri took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Do it,” she said, her voice firm despite the pain. “I trust you.”
Those three simple words sent a weird warm flutter through Monte’s chest, but he pushed the feeling to the side, focusing on the task at hand. He nodded, threading a needle with steady hands.
As he began to stitch the wound, Monte marveled at Kiri’s strength and bravery. She barely flinched, even as the needle pierced her skin, her trust in him unwavering as she watched him, studied him.
“How did you learn to do this?” Kiri asked, as if she was trying to distract herself from the pain.
“Bit of a story there,” Monte murmured as he concentrated on his task, the warm light from the overhead wooden rustic chandelier illuminating his work. His hands moved with precision, threading the needle through her skin with practiced ease.
Each pull of the thread was a testament to his skill, quietly assuring Kiri she was in capable hands. He watched her reactions with each pass. The last thing he wanted was to cause her pain by pressing too hard, poking too deep, or working too swiftly.
