Page 68 of His Forsaken Alpha

“Will do,” Cavanaugh said. “Though it might be a few days.”

“It don’t take that long to warm u—” Trout paused a moment, eyes widening. “The full moon. Gotcha.That’swhy you were in a hurry to get up here and away from me.”

“I meant no offense,” Cavanaugh murmured.

“None taken,” Trout replied.

Wynter’s face warmed at Trout’s uncomfortable expression and quick movement toward the door.

The older man smiled, his hand on the knob. “Nice meeting you, Wynter.” He lifted his gaze to Cavanaugh. “I’m headed back down. No worries, I’ll be watching out for anyone who might’ve tailed you.”

“Appreciated,” Cavanaugh said. “I’ll yell as soon as I can. Promise.”

“Sure thing. Have fun you two,” Trout said before tossing up two fingers and opening the front door, a gale of wind and snow whipping inside.

Cavanaugh moved to the window nearest the door and peeked outside. “It’s turning into a bigger storm.” He faced Wynter. “That’s good for us. It’ll make it harder for the Wildlings to track us back here, if they bother. We’ll be safer for it.”

Wynter nodded, warmed, yet numb.

Cavanaugh returned to his side, sitting on the floor. “Are you okay?” He lifted a hand to brush back some of Wynter’s matted hair.

It was then that Wynter saw the bandage on Cavanaugh’s palm. There was a large circle of blood in the center. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,”Cavanaugh replied. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“That’s not nothing,” Wynter said.

“The shattered glass I used to get that alpha off you. It sliced me up pretty good, but it’s fine. I cleaned it and it’s covered.”

Wynter reached for the bandage.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and checked over before we worry about me, okay?”

“You’re bleeding,”Wynter cried.

“I put some liquid bandage on it. I’ll check it again once you’re in the tub.”

Wynter finally looked down at himself and cringed. He was filthy. Between the blood, dirt, leaves, and mud, he was a sight. He lifted his long hair and found twigs, leaves, and mud caked in it. “No way am I sitting in a tub full of this mess. A shower will do just fine.”

“We’ll get you taken care of,” Cavanaugh said. He grinned, his straight, white teeth glinting in the firelight. “I’ve got a shower in the mudroom out back. We can give you a hosing off before you get in the tub.”

Wynter would’ve normally griped to be ‘hosed off’ but as gross as he was, he wasn’t complaining.

Cavanaugh rose and offered his unwounded hand.

Wynter took it, gladly. His alpha led him to the back of the cabin—which was little more than a chill four-season room lined with glass windows with screens behind them. The cement floor around the shower drain was damp. Cavanaugh had clearly used the mudroom for his own shower.

Before he did anything else, Cavanaugh started it again. His alpha spun and began peeling off Wynter’s layers, tossing them into a pile near a washing machine. The whole time, Cavanaugh watched him closely, treating him with devotion and care, checking over every scratch or scrape. When the temperature was right, his alpha took off the last bits and urged him under the warm spray. Then, he peeled off his own clothes and joined in.

Wynter moaned at the feel of the water sluicing over his sore muscles and bruises he sensed he’d soon have. His alpha gently pulled the mess from his hair before rinsing more off his body. When the surface dirt was gone, Cavanaugh used a bar of soap and a washcloth to wipe his body, bit by bit, clearing off any mud and muck.

Each swipe of the cloth over his body heated him from within. Cavanaugh’s big, firm hand underneath was warmer than the water, nearly scalding his flesh. His alpha’s gaze lifted to his, time and again, the lingering hunger erupting into flames.

Wynter felt the coiling of need in his belly, slick spreading between his cheeks. Cavanaugh’s nostrils widened, and Wynter was sure his alpha scented him—yet continued to gently wash every inch without succumbing. How he could show such control when all Wynter wanted to do was drop to his knees and offer his body as a vessel for his alpha, he didn’t know.

“You look clean to me,” Cavanaugh murmured as he rose to his full height and towered over Wynter.

Wynter lifted his gaze, eyeing the man through the curl of his lashes, eager to see where the night took them. The contact heat had appeared over, yet there was something still simmering within. Hisactualheat was slated to begin the next day, yet the need grew.

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