Chapter 35

Creed

I was in hell.

I'd fallen into eternal torment when I saw Jessalyn being struck by those fucking bandits, and I'd burned, in reality, as the roseblood throbbed in my blood and we'd taken off after her. Then later… gods. Before that, I'd never let myself go so far with a female, with a woman, and when I did with Jessalyn? I still felt her blood on my fingertips from when I'd touched the wound on her scalp. Of course she was bristling with anger like a cat backed into a corner. She hissed and spat at the men who were supposed to love and care for her.

Because we hadn't.

I watched Marian inspect her scalp, my muscles tightening when Jessalyn winced, but the healer nodded as she withdrew her hands.

"You're healing well, thankfully. You'll have headaches for a few days, but you should be right as rain within a week." She gestured to the copper bath Roan still clung to like it was a shield. "Have a wash. You'll feel more yourself when you're clean, and I'll have some food sent over. Plain fare." Her tone grew firmer. "We'll keep your diet bland until you've shown you can keep food down consistently."

I would get her that food. I'd bring her the best cuts of meat, porridge rich with sugar and milk. I'd bring her water fresh from the spring. I'd—

"And you three need to dump those buckets of water into the bath," Marian said, shooting us a meaningful look. "Then get some more. You'll stay in this room only at the patient's say so. Also no more fighting. Jessalyn's been through enough."

Silas looked as pale as milk, his green eyes standing out all the brighter in his face, as he took the rebuke silently. We all did. Then, while we were just waiting there, Roan set the bath down. That had Silas and me moving, pouring the buckets of water into the copper tub.

"We'll need a lot more than that," Silas said, glancing at Jessalyn then back to me.

"Let's get the buckets up here double time," Roan said. "I'll help."

I didn't want to leave the room. The wolf inside me was pushing hard to take control. I'd made such a fucking balls-up of everything. He was sure he could do better: jump up on the bed, then turn around three times before settling down beside her.

But she wouldn't want that.

The room stank of the sour scent of burnt flowers, the specific scent of Jessalyn's pain, and we were the cause of it, not the solution. I shouldered my way out of the healer's cottage. The air was always sweetest in the packlands, but even the soft breeze in my face wasn't able to dispel that stink. Roan found an extra bucket and we filled each one with water, then carried it back, filling the bath until it was ready. I tested the water, felt that it was suitably warm but not too hot. I looked up to let her know her bath was ready, but what I saw made me clench my jaw.

Jessalyn sat up in the bed with the blankets bunched up around her, her knuckles white as she clutched at them. She stared at us, then the bath, before raising her head and forcing herself to move. Her progress was slow and caused her pain. I wanted to rush over, to carry her back and settle her in the bath, but with the fire in her eyes it was clear what a mistake that would be. She made it under her own steam, right up until she reached the side of the bed. When she dropped her feet to the floor and stood, her legs wobbled, then faltered, and we were beside her in a flash. Hands grabbed her hands, her hips, her shoulder, to provide her with the strength she lacked.

"I know you hate us right now," Silas said, in an all too even tone.

"Hate implies a depth of emotion you don't deserve," she said, every inch the frosty princess. "I don't hate you. I merely want you to unhand me."

"And what will happen if we do?" Roan drew his hand away and stepped back, so she started to waver. Silas and I gripped her tighter as Roan crossed his arms over his chest. "Seems to me that you need help right now."

"Not from the likes of you," she snapped.

"Why not?" Those words came unbidden from my mouth, and then I was treated to the sight of all that scorn being directed at me. "It doesn't have to mean anything to you. Use us. Make us make amends for our stupidity."

I don't know what the hell I'd said to make her gaze soften for just a second, but I grabbed at that with everything I had.

"Fine. If you could help me to the bath."

"You got it, Prince—" Roan stopped himself. "Jessalyn."

"Your Highness would be more appropriate right now."

Despite her frosty tone, I heard the waver in her voice, a twin to the shake in her legs as she made her way over to the bath and then stood before the swirling surface.

"Well, Your Highness." I threw a dark look at Silas for the sharp edge of his tone. "How did you want to do this? We can set you in the water in your shift or…"

His voice trailed away as she grabbed at the cotton of her dress and started to haul it upwards.

"Perhaps we should step out," Roan said.

"Avert your eyes!" I growled at him as her slender legs appeared.

"Why?" Her tone contained all the challenge I'd scrupulously kept from my voice when I'd asked her a question. "It's nothing you haven't seen before." But she had already started to struggle and was now simply trying to claw the dress up and over her body, so I stepped in.

I picked up the hem and whisked it upwards, careful to avoid catching her head, before pulling it free. My mate blinked as goosebumps formed all the way over her skin, then looked down at the bathwater. Silas and I nodded to each other, stepping in and scooping her up between us. The weight of her in my arms was such a welcome thing, but it was there and gone again as we settled her into the water.

A small sigh was the only indication we had that the water was a good temperature. The wolf's ears twitched within me, wanting to hear every tiny sound she made. I moved then, retrieving the gifts from the women of my family.

"I was told to give you these," I said, showing her the muslin bag, then opening the drawstring. Soap that had the smell of lemons and the sun was brought out and handed to her as well as a glass bottle of shampoo. My mother wasn't sure if it was needed yet, but it was sent over anyway. A brand-new washcloth followed that and was laid over the lip of the bath.

"Whoever gifted these to me has my thanks," she said, wetting the cloth and then placing the soap inside, ready to lather herself up.

"We should leave—" I said.

"And if she slips in the bath?" Silas interrupted, shooting me a sharp look.

"What about when she needs to get out?" Roan asked. "If she falls, she'll hit her head all over again. And then where will we be? Princess…" He looked at our mate then. "Your Highness, every man here recognises he has done you a great injury. We didn't realise you were injured when we found you—"

"Not helping," Silas hissed.

"But if you would allow us to assist you in bathing, we'd appreciate the opportunity to make amends for such a terrible oversight."

Each one of us hung on her response. Jessalyn settled back against the bath, resting her arms on the lip. While her lips thinned, she finally nodded.

"You are such colossal asses that I think it fitting you are demoted to the role of bathing assistants." Her fingers gripped the copper bath tight. "Especially as the last one served me so terribly."

"But we won't." Silas gazed down at her with a stare that didn't end. "Not since… Not ever again." He bowed then, performing that complicated movement courtiers did. Members of The Guild had to be able to do all of them to walk in the worlds they did. "Until you dismiss us, we are at your service."

He remained as he was, bent low at the waist, until she waved a hand to allow him to rise.

"Well then," she said, finally looking each one of us in the eye. "Which one of you is gentle enough to be able to wash my hair? It feels lank and disgusting." Her hand rose to touch her scalp, then pulled away. "And matted with blood, and it horrifies me that I've been laying there in my own filth for however long it's been."

"Two days," I told her, though it felt like so many more. "It's been two days. We rode through the night to get you here to a healer I trust. I held you against my chest the entire time." I picked up the washcloth and dropped down to my knees beside the bath, soaping it up over and over. "Two days since the moment when I wasn't sure if you lived or died."

I smoothed the cloth up her arm, grateful I had an opportunity to. It was flushed pink and rosy by the warm water, whereas when she'd lost consciousness, her skin had been pale, almost blue. Marian had been apoplectic when we arrived, especially when the story had unfolded. It was the greatest night and most horrific of my life, and all I could hope was there would be more going forward.