Page 69 of His Forsaken Alpha

Cavanaugh smiled, the sight of it sending Wynter into more of a tailspin. His alpha undid one of the two small braids at Wynter’s temples. “We should wash this here. It’ll probably be easier than the tub.”

Wynter had never had an alpha wash his hair before. Something about that seemed almost too intimate an act. Cavanaugh held his gaze as he freed the braid, only breaking it to tackle the other. Wynter leaned into Cavanaugh’s strength, his knees growing weak with anticipation. Once the braids were loose, his alpha pushed the strands behind him, allowing it to trail down past his ass.

“It’s like silver,” Cavanaugh whispered. “Spun silver.” He grinned, reaching for a bottle of shampoo.

Cavanaugh loaded some into his palm before lifting one hand to Wynter’s head and massaging it in. It was then that Wynter recalled Cavanaugh’s wounded hand. He reached up, pushing his alpha’s hand away gently.

“I appreciate the care, but you’re injured. I can do this.”

Cavanaugh allowed a slick tuft of tresses to slide over his fingers. “Feels as silky as it looks.”

Wynter smiled inwardly, scrubbing the past two days from his hair. Once rinsed, he felt like a real person again, and sighed.

Cavanaugh turned off the water. “Let’s get you into the tub for that soak.”

“Wait,” Wynter said, grasping Cavanaugh’s wrist. “I want to look at this.”

“I’ll take care of it once you’re relaxing.”

“I won’t be able to relax until I know you’re okay.”

Cavanaugh held his gaze a moment before he seemed to relent and sighed. “Fine.” He walked toward the door into the main house.

“Where are you going?” Wynter asked, shivering.

Cavanaugh pulled a thick, cotton robe from the back of the door and returned with it. He draped it over Wynter’s shoulders. Wynter slid his arms into the holes as his alpha tied it tightly at the waist. He lifted his gaze, seeing the need sparking in Cavanaugh’s gaze. It likely matched his own, but he had something to attend to before they did anything else.

“Do you have a first aid kit?”

A smile played over Cavanaugh’s lips. “What do you know about first aid? Didn’t you have servants to do that?”

Wynter swatted playfully at Cavanaugh’s bicep. “I had four alpha brothers growing up—and an omega one, too. They were constantly getting banged up, and my papa made me help bandage their wounds.” He lifted a brow. “I might not knowallthe tricks, but enough that I can hopefully get you tended to.”

“Take care of me,baby,”Cavanaugh whispered.

Wynter fought a smile, biting his lower lip. “Lead the way and I’ll do the best I can.”

Soon after Cavanaugh redressed, they sat at the small kitchen table. Wynter peeled off the bandage and hissed when he saw the hellacious cut there.“Cav!”

“What?”

“This needs medical attention.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“It is!” Wynter argued.

“It’s not like I can go to the hospital in this storm.” When Cavanaugh seemed to sense Wynter’s worry, he shrugged. “I heal quickly. Patch me up and I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Wynter wasn’t so sure, but as Cav had said, it wasn’t as if they could venture out in the storm. He searched what appeared to be a decent first aid kit where he found a small bottle of medical-grade distilled water within. After grabbing a kitchen towel to lay under Cavanaugh’s hand, he rinsed the blood away and got a better look. Fortunately, it didn’t look quite as bad after that. The wound was smaller than he’d first assumed, but still serious. He used a tiny flashlight he’d snatched in the mudroom, inspecting the cut. “No wonder it’s still bleeding.” He sought a set of tweezers in the kit. “There’s still some glass fragments in there.”

“That’s why it’s still hurting so bad, I guess.”

Wynter scoffed before handing the flashlight to his alpha. “Hold this. I’ve got surgery to perform.”

“You know, I had four alpha brothers, myself,” Cav said as Wynter went to work.

“Oh?” Wynter asked, carefully sliding the first sliver out.

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