Page 30 of Brutal Alpha's Sold Mate
He opens the door and guides me inside before helping me sink onto a chair. Then he snatches a rag from the kitchen area and runs it under some water.
I notice the wound on his calf is still bleeding. “You first,” I insist, pointing. “You got nicked.”
He snorts. “I’ll get to it in a second. Show me where you’re hurt.”
I straighten, flinching at a tender spot on my ribs. “He landed on me pretty hard. My side feels bruised.”
Theo kneels and lifts the edge of my shirt to inspect the area. I bite back a wince at the cool press of the damp rag. “It’s bruised, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”
I clench my teeth, resisting the urge to snap at him. This isn’t his fault. I’m just mad at myself. “Thanks for looking.”
He nods, then stands and rummages for a small first-aid kit on a high shelf. “Let’s see if we’ve got something for disinfecting.”
I watch him dig around. The silence feels louder than any argument we’ve had. Eventually, he returns, cleaning and bandaging the cut on his calf. Blood seeps through at first, but he hisses softly and ties the bandage tighter.
I blink. “You took a knife for me?”
He tosses aside the used gauze. “Technically, I jumped in front of it. Didn’t have much of a choice.”
Anger wells up, directed at my own helplessness. “I hate that I needed your help. Again.”
He glances at me. “I didn’t exactly do it for the fun of it.”
My gaze drops to the floor. “I used to be able to handle myself—well, you know.” That admission rips out of me in a bitter wave. “Now some random creep with a knife can best me.”
“You’re still dealing with that poison, right? This wasn’t your fault.”
I scoff. “That’s no excuse. I should’ve been able to fight him off.”
He reaches out and tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear, surprising me with the gentleness. “It’s not your fault,” he repeats, then slides into the chair next to mine. “I know what it’s like to feel inadequate, especially when you think you should be stronger.”
Something in me cracks. I’m not used to him being so understanding. I look away and wrap my arms around myself. “I was terrified,” I whisper. “I thought that was it. If you hadn’t shown up… I don’t even want to think about it.”
He places a hand on my shoulder. “You’re safe now. I promise, we’ll find a real solution to that poison. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
My breath catches. Part of me wants to scream at him for dragging me into this mess, but another part is so relieved to have someone on my side that I can’t form coherent words. Instead, I settle for nodding.
I close my eyes, and the memory floods back—the man pressing down on me, the blade so close to such a vital organ. My breathing speeds up, and I force myself to speak through the spike of panic. “Thank you,” I manage, voice unsteady.
“For saving you?” He gives a slight shrug, but his eyes remain intense. “I wasn’t about to let you die out there.”
An awkward pause lingers. I rub my temples. “I hate feeling like this. Weak.”
“You’re not weak,” he says firmly. “I’ve seen you fight. You’re dealing with something beyond your control, but that doesn’t define you.”
Warmth pools in my chest at his words, but I grit my teeth, refusing to wallow in gratitude. “Whatever.”
He doesn’t seem fooled by my bravado. “Look, I can’t fix everything overnight, but you’re not alone. I might’ve… bought you, which was a mistake, but I’m not going to stand by and watch you struggle. I want to help.”
Emotions swirl in my throat, and I try to push them down. “Why?”
“Because I care. And because I’m not like Malcolm and Wiley or any scum who thinks people are disposable.”
My heartbeat kicks up. The energy between us shifts, heavier but not unpleasant. I can’t deny I’m drawn to the sincerity I see in his eyes. Everything about this is complicated—he paid for me, after all—but right now, I’m too shaken to overanalyze.
I exhale a shaky breath. “I don’t want to be indebted to you.”
He snorts softly. “You’re not. Let’s just call it common decency, plus a healthy dose of me not wanting to lose the one person in this pack who challenges me.”
