Page 38 of Brutal Alpha's Sold Mate
She lifts the edge of my shirt, anyway, gently probing. I flinch, and she grimaces. “You’re done pushing through for today,” she declares. “We’re going inside.”
I could argue, but I don’t. After she says goodbye to her students, I follow her into the cabin, wincing as I stumble. She shuts the door and guides me upstairs to the bed. The same bed where I made love to her last night. The sheets are still messy, but I lose focus when my side flares in protest when I sit. I grit my teeth and keep my mouth shut.
She grabs the worn first-aid kit off a nearby shelf, right where I left it the last time. “Shirt off,” she orders.
“Not even a first date?” I mutter, trying for humor.
She snorts. “We’re way past that.” Then she helps me tug the shirt free, baring a mess of bruises and half-healed cuts across my torso. She shakes her head. “Reed did a number on you.”
I glance aside. “I thought he was behind the raids, and what happened to you. I was wrong. He made sure I knew it.”
She disinfects a gash with gentle precision. I hiss at the sting. “Maybe next time, check the facts before throwing accusations around. Your watchers can’t keep peeling you off the ground.”
“He’s done worse to me and to this pack. He’s not innocent.”
“Maybe not,” she concedes. “But you were wrong this time.”
Silence settles between us. My chest tightens. I recall Reed’s furious face, the blows we traded, and the realization I’d once again stoked our never-ending conflict.
She unsheathes a fresh bandage, then reaches for a salve. “Don’t you think you should apologize to him?”
“Apologize?” I almost laugh, though it hurts. “You think he’d accept it?”
She lifts a shoulder. “That’s his problem. The question is, can you swallow your pride to admit your mistake?”
I try to regulate my breathing, ignoring the burn in my side. “I’m not sure I can. Reed’s been undermining me for ages.”
She sets the salve aside. “Still, if you attacked him under false pretenses, you owe him something.”
She’s right, but everything inside me revolts at the thought of kneeling to Reed in any capacity. “I’ll think about it,” I grumble.
She eyes me, then gently pushes me back against the pillows. “At least rest for now. You’re done for the day.”
I settle into the bedding, letting out a groan when a jolt of pain shoots through my ribs. “Nothing’s ever simple with us,” I complain. “One brother threatens my mate, the other one wants my head on a pike. The pack is caught in the crossfire. I’m stuck between pride and doing what’s right.”
Kai shuffles around, tidying stray objects. “I know. I’m in it, too, remember?”
I close my eyes, exhaustion weighing me down. “I hate that you’re dragged into it. You should be focusing on healing your wolf, not patching me up.”
A slight smile touches her lips. “We’re both wounded. We’ll mend faster if we’re not alone. That’s our nature.”
Her words soothe something raw in me, like a balm on a burn. “Thanks,” I tell her. “For everything.”
She finishes picking up, then turns back. “Scoot over.” Before I can protest, she climbs onto the mattress beside me, mindful of my injuries. We’ve shared a bed more than once now, and last night, we crossed a line that we can never uncross right in this very spot. I try not to think about how much I need it.
The cabin’s shadows lengthen as we lie there. My ribs complain every time I move, so I try to stay still. She rests on her side, not exactly curled into me, but near enough for her warmth to seep across the space.
“You’ve got to stop taking hits for every pack problem,” she comments as her eyes drift shut. “Learn to delegate.”
“I’ll work on it,” I reply, my eyes half-lidded. “If I can survive my brothers, I can manage that.”
She snorts quietly, then a hush falls over us. Pain hums in my ribs, but my brain drifts toward some semblance of rest, lulled by her presence. My thoughts swirl around the possibility of apologizing to Reed, and the guilt presses harder than my injuries. Eventually, I slip into a doze, and the world goes quiet for a while.
A dull ache in my side drags me to consciousness a few hours later. The cabin is dark, with no sign of the setting sun. My mind gropes through a haze, and my body is painfully aware of the heat next to me. Kai sleeps on her back now, the blankets twisted around her bare legs. My heartbeat spikes. A wave of need rushes through me, more intense than the pain.
I shift closer, ignoring the tug on my bandaged ribs. She murmurs something incoherent, and her eyelids flutter. In the low light, I see the soft line of her throat, the angle of her jaw, the parted curve of her lips. My breath catches, and an ache of another sort takes hold.
“Kai,” I whisper, leaning in and sliding my hand over her abdomen.
