Chapter Forty-Eight

Kane

Will is in and out of sleep for two whole days. No matter how much strength I try to give her, she’s exhausted, and still in pain.

The Northside pricks are all kinds of worked up. Their inner alphas must not like having an injured omega in the den—barging in at all hours of the day to offer fresh bandages and healing herbs.

“Here,” the pup-faced one, Aster, offers me a jar of oil. “For her next bath. Meant to reduce swelling.”

What the fuck does he care about my mate’s baths ? my alpha snarls.

I snatch the jar from his hands and slam the door.

Willow stirs. “Alpha …?”

“Sorry, bunny,” I mutter, returning to her bedside. I smooth her hair back—admittedly, an easier feat, now the curls loop neatly around her ears. I show her the jar. “Another courting gift.”

She smirks. “Jealous?”

“Of that pipsqueak? Not a chance.”

“His name is Aster,” she reminds me, trying to sit up. “Try not to scare him so much. He has a nice scent.”

I pause. “Alright. Jealous now.”

She rolls her eyes.

I try not to growl as she pops open the lid, smelling its contents. A satisfied purr escapes her. She offers me the jar and I shake my head, standing, to glare out the window. We’re near the barracks, right on the edge of the village. A line of frost-tipped trees faces the rear wall.

Under other circumstances, this spot would suit me fine. But with three nosy alphas in the mix, all of whom happen to be unmarked? My possessive urges are getting harder to control.

“Where’s Silas?” Willow asks, putting the jar down.

“Kitchen,” I answer. I’ve been catching snippets of his and Tristan’s lowered voices for over an hour.

“Another interrogation?”

I shrug.

She sighs. “How much more could they possibly need?”

“Beats me.” How anyone could even listen to Silas talk that long is a mystery.

Willow must detect the snarky tone through the bond, because she reaches her hand out, drawing me closer. I slide behind her in bed, propping her back against my chest.

“How’s the pain?” I ask, softer now.

She considers, like she wants to lie, but knows she won’t get away with it. “It could be worse.”

“So, bad.”

She just chuffs. I brush my nose against the top of her head, breathing her in. Her fruity scent has taken on a coppery twinge. It’s different from the last time she was sick. Almost … earthy .

Gently, I palm her chest, ignoring the surge of blood down my stomach when I feel her breasts.

She sucks in a breath. “Kane?”

“Where’s it hurt?” I demand. “Here?” I cup the side of her breast. “Or …” I feel my way down her waist. “Lower?”

She swallows, blushing. “I don’t know. A bit of both.”

I grunt unhappily. “My alpha’s on edge.”

She tips her head back to look at me. “Is that a recent development, or …?”

“Don’t be cute,” I mutter. I feel around, my hands on her body setting the bond alight. I love how much I affect her.

I’d probably love it a lot more if I could figure out what the hell is wrong.

“It’s okay, alpha,” Willow tries to calm me. “My wounds are healing. And the imprint sickness is, well, you know—”

“No. This is new.”

All I can see is the top of her head, yet I sense her biting her lip. “Well, there is one other thing it could be. Maybe.”

Thank god. Finally, she can put me out of my misery. “Tell me,” I demand. Let me make it better. That animal part of me is already jumping at the chance to take care of her, without any of the other alphas’ help.

That’s when I scent it. Or, rather, I scent more of it. Copper.

My alpha roars to attention.

“Omega,” I growl, “you’re bleeding.”

***

Christ, I’m an idiot. A big, male, alpha, idiot.

I pace up and down the frosty dirt path. I wanted to tell Silas to go fuck himself when he suggested I wait outside. Has he already forgotten that Willow and I are bonded? All the fresh air in the world isn’t going to stop me from feeling it.

Though I never thought I’d see the day where I’m sharing my mate’s menstrual pain.

Baby-face stands beside the front door, eyeing me anxiously. “You okay?”

I flash my teeth. He turns white.

Try not to scare him so much, Willow’s voice echoes in my ears. He has a nice scent.

Despite myself, I take a breath through my nose, trying to focus on something other than the blood inside. Willow was right. Baby-face does have a nice scent, like fresh fruit. I breathe in again. Sweet and tart.

He says, “Your mate is going to be okay. Kelina knows what to do. Even Silas seemed to—”

I shoot him another glare.

His eyes are still on me as I pace. Hazel, almost green. Hair like bronze, with golden strands woven through. I keep thinking he’s just a pup, but when I let myself look a little closer, he can’t be any younger than Willow.

“You’re small for an alpha,” I remark. At least a head shorter than me.

He perks up. “You think?”

Yes. No. Maybe not. My point of reference is, well, me . And Silas. Not exactly fair comparisons.

“I wanted to say …” he shuffles his feet. “I’m sorry. About the cellar. We shouldn’t have chained you up so long, or kept you away from your mate.”

Is he really feeling guilty, now? It’s not like I give a damn about an apology.

Yet for some reason, I find myself answering, “I would’ve taken your throat out if you cut me loose.”

“Oh.” He gulps. “Well, I’m sorry anyway.”

The front door opens. Kelina scans me up and down, checking I’ve got a hold on myself. Finally, she says, “Your mate’s asking for you.”

I shoulder past her without hesitation. Behind me, I hear Baby-face—fine , Aster— ask how Willow’s doing. I don’t catch the response before I barge into the room at the end of the hall.

“Omega,” I blurt out.

She’s not in bed. In fact, the bed’s been stripped bare. Instead, I find her sitting by the window. The bond throbs when our eyes meet, embarrassment trickling through. I can’t tell which side it’s coming from.

“Hey,” she says.

Biting back a growl, I kneel by my knees before her, resting my hands on her thighs. “Who undressed you?”

She fists her white underdress, trying to hide the bloodstains.

“Silas—” she starts, then clears her throat. “He’s filling the bath.”

Dammit. That should’ve been my job, as her alpha. My goddamn right.

“Kane,” Willow presses. “Will you help me?”

At once, my anger melts away. I scoop her up without a word, carrying her into the washroom. I can feel eyes on us down the hall and twist my shoulders to shield her.

Silas is crouched over the long wooden tub, pouring in another bucket of water. Steam rises into the air, bubbles peppered around the tub’s surface. I recognize the scent from that jar Aster gave us earlier—orange mixed with ginger.

Silas looks up. “Good timing.” He looks between me and Willow expectantly. “What are you waiting for?”

I hold my mate closer. “Waiting for you to piss off.”

“Alpha,” she chastises.

“I’ll go,” Silas says, with difficulty, “if that’s what she wants.” He eyes Willow more closely. “But I seem to recall she enjoyed the last time we shared a bath together.”

Willow turns red. “I don’t know if I’d call last time ‘sharing’.”

“Maybe not.” He smiles. “All the same, I’m happy to help.”

“I’ll bet,” I bite out.

Silas doesn’t retaliate. He knows as well as I do that it’s not up to me, or him. My bond mate—his imprint mate—is in pain. Whatever she says, wants, even indicates , goes.

Finally, she gives a tiny nod. I have no choice but to let her out of my arms, smothering my raging alpha as she strips down.

Silas’s jaw is clenched so tight, I’m impressed it doesn’t shatter. Even more impressed that he just stands there, dead still, until I lift her naked body into the water.

“Wait,” he says. “Her bandages. They need to come off.”

My hand ghosts the off-white fabric beneath her breasts, searching for an opening. It’s hard to focus with my mate’s soft, milky body on gorgeous display before me.

“I’ve got it,” Silas murmurs. He unfurls her bandages with ease, looping it around his palm as he goes.

I hold Willow steady. “Eyes on me, bunny.”

She’s turned rosy all over. Whether that’s from the hot water, or from the two alphas eyeing her hungrily, it’s hard to say.

Though, judging from my rock-hard cock, I’m guessing the latter.

She sinks into the water, humming contentedly. I crouch down beside her. God knows, if I stay standing, it’s going to be that much harder to resist shoving my cock in her pretty pink mouth.

“Close your eyes, little one,” Silas says hoarsely.

He fills the water bucket. Willow tips her head back, sighing as he wets her hair. There’s a lot less of it compared to last time, but that doesn’t stop Silas from showing that same tenderness.

His hands massage the base of her skull, working his way down her neck. The second he touches her bonding scar, it’s like a bolt of lightning into the bond.

Willow gasps. I groan.

Did I seriously just get turned on by another alpha touching my mate ?

Willow eyes me apologetically, and suddenly it all makes sense. It’s not my own arousal I’m feeling.

Only then do I realize the position I’m in. The last time Silas bathed my omega, they were in the early stages of imprinting. They didn’t know it back then. Now they do. Which makes me …

In the way.

I savor the sight of my mate. Her sweet face. Her sparkling eyes. The way her breasts sit just above the water’s surface, and her neck is still raw with my bite. No matter what state she’s in—bleeding, bruised, broken—she shines brighter than the sun.

And no matter what happens, she will always be mine .

I lean forward, kissing her forehead. “Love you.”

The last thing I see before I get up to leave are her shoulders softening. I know, in that single, minute gesture, that she loves me too.

I put my hand on the doorknob. To my surprise, it’s not Willow, but Silas, who speaks.

“Don’t,” he says.

I refuse to turn, knowing another glance at my mate could make me lose my nerve.

“I can’t,” he insists. “Not like this.”

At that, sensing my mate’s distress, I lock eyes with Silas. “I’m finally giving you what you want,” I growl. “What she needs.”

Silas shakes his head. “I’m not all she needs.”

There’s a moment of eerie stillness in the bond, both Willow and I trying to process what he’s saying.

Silas removes his tunic. Then his pants. He tosses both aside, standing naked and hard across from me. At my blank look, he nods for me to do the same.

My mate’s quiet purr fills the room. She leans against the wall of the tub like she’s trying to make room. Finally, spurred on by the honeyed wildfire in her pheromones, I unclasp my cloak.

Silas slowly sinks into the tub. Water sloshes over the top.

I stand over them, freeing my erection from my pants as Willow slides into Silas’s arms. The bond glows with belonging. With trust.

“Together,” Silas says, to both of us now. “As a pack.”