Page 169 of Bitten & Burned
Didn’t have to.
The silence between us shifted—no longer heavy, but humming.
And then:
“Is the temperature alright, darling?”
Anton.
He stepped fully into view—still bloodied from neck to waist, but his hands…
His hands were clean.
So clean they almost looked wrong. Like they’d been scrubbed raw beneath the nails. Like he couldn’t bear the thought of touching me with anything that had touchedthem.
“It’s a little too hot,” I said, voice thin but steady. “But that’s just where I need it to be… to scrub all of this off my skin.”
“Let me do that, darling.” Anton knelt beside the tub and picked up a sponge with those immaculate hands. “You just lie there and be beautiful.”
Quil made a disgusted sound. “Gods, you’reinsufferablewhen you’re in love.”
Anton chuckled. “You say that as if you don’t worship the ground she bleeds upon.”
“No, I said it because it’s true. You’re insufferable. I just never saidIwasn’t.”
Anton dipped the sponge into the water and brought it to my face, gently washing away the blood that had dried along my cheek and jaw. His eyes—blue-green, luminous—had settled again. Calm. Beautiful. No trace of the rabid, savage predator I’d seen only hours before.
I tilted my head towards him.
“I love you like this,” I said softly. “And I love you likethatas well.”
I reached up and dragged my wet fingers across his upper arm, leaving clean streaks through the caked-on gore.
He inhaled sharply and dunked the sponge again. “I’m flattered that you do,” he murmured, “but I don’t wish to unveil that particular side of myself ever again, Rowena.”
“And I toldyoubefore,” I said, watching him. “If it means I live to seethisside of you again? You unveilanythingyou need to.”
His jaw flexed, eyes shining with something he didn’t say aloud. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
Then he reached for my leg.
The sigil.
He rubbed the sponge over it as gently as he could—but I still winced.
He frowned immediately. “It’s still bleeding.” Another pass of the sponge. Another pink swirl in the water. “It hasn’t stopped. It should’ve stopped by now, shouldn’t it?”
“It’s activated, remember?” Quil said quietly from behind us.
We both turned.
“As you said, but what does that mean?” Anton asked.
“The sigil,” Quil repeated. “It’s a mark of ownership. And it’s been activated.”
I blinked. “Because I took off the amulet?”
Quil shook his head. “That wouldn’t have any bearing on it. It’s been physically activated, so it’s bleeding. Calling.”
