He nods, the motion small but certain.
“Then trust that you’ll always be perfect to me, Xen. Let me see you.”
His eye climbs to mine again, searching for any hidden lie, any flicker of disgust, but he won’t find it.
Finally, ever so slowly, he releases his grip on my wrists.
I wait a few heartbeats longer to give him space for objection, but when none comes, I slide the leather strap over his head and toss it aside.
A quiet whimper escapes him as his good eye closes tight, like he’s bracing for a reaction he can’t bear to witness.
Pale lashes are perfectly intact, fanning out along the hollow pit of his ruined eye. Scars radiate from the injury in jagged, raised lines that cut across his skin like rose-pink frozen lightning.
The contrast is brutal against the flawless beauty of his face.
I force down the lump rising in my throat, and my thumbs scrub the crusted blood on his face until he’s clean.
“See?” I whisper as I guide his head closer and press the softest kiss to those scars. “Perfect.”
He shudders beneath the touch, a broken exhale escaping him as his eye flutters open. His breath hitches as he searches my face for revulsion that isn’t there.
A sob catches in his throat, small and stifled at first, but it breaks free on the next breath. His arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer as he buries his face against my shoulder, and his tears are hot against my skin. Years of hidden pain spill out in silent, heaving cries that shake us both.
I hold him tighter, one hand cradling the back of his head. My fingers thread through his damp hair, and he clings to me like I’m the only solid thing left in his world.
Eventually, his cries settle, and he fists my hair and guides my lips to his in a slow kiss. He pulls back and stares into my eyes for a moment before he dips his chin in a nod, granting permission to wash the night away.
The water runs pink as I wash Xeni’s skin and hair, taking my time to let my hands explore the lean planes of his body. I turn him to face the wall and massage his back, running mythumbs along the muscles that are tight from spending the past five days in uncomfortable, unnatural positions.
He turns to face me with his nipples pebbled and his cock half hard, but both of us know this isn’t leading anywhere tonight. He needs rest, and now that he’s clean, he’s barely conscious.
We dry off, and I fight off the guilt for having someone else manage my laundry as I wrap myself in a towel and leave our dirty clothes piled outside the door.
Xeni is already between the sheets when I hang the towel in the bathroom and come to bed. I climb in behind him, banding my arms around his waist and hugging him there.
“I always felt safer like this,” he whispers with a happy sigh into the darkness, and even with the danger surrounding us and the alarms blaring outside, I feel safe, too.
Xeni
MorninghasrisenwhenI jolt awake, momentarily confused by the lavender scented pillow beneath my head. The screeching outside the windows is jarring, but the warmth of the body pressed against mine is endlessly familiar. It grounds me as everything from last night rushes back in a flood of memories. I take a deep breath to steady myself as the realization settles heavy in my chest.
Bash came for me.
He risked his freedom and his life forme.
Ever since I was a child, I’ve been told I’m worthless. The idea was drilled into me by those who were supposed to love me, but only used me when it suited them. I’ve spent most of my existence as a pawn—a tool to be wielded when convenient and stowed away when no longer needed.
Not something to be treasured, and certainly never something worth a sacrifice of this magnitude.
Bash’s face is tucked into my neck, and he grunts softly as he arches his back in a stretch. He’s exhausted as he looks up at me, but his eyes are serene.
“How do you feel this morning?” he asks through a stifled yawn.
Everything inside me wants to dismiss the question.
I’ve been conditioned to pretend I’m fine, shrug him off, and suffer behind a smile. For a lifetime, I’ve hidden the cracks and smoothed the edges. Kept the mask in place so no one sees the fear that lives behind it.
But last night was a tipping point.
