Ethan Stone''s back was lean and muscr, marred by ten crisscrossingsh marks from the whip. The angry red welts stood out starkly against his tanned skin, some already beginning to bruise. Despite everything. I couldn''t help but feel a twinge of sympathy.
A knock on the door interrupted my examination of his wounds. I hesitated before answering it, suddenly aware of how intimate this situation might appear to an outsider.
A servant stood at the door, holding a wooden box carved with intricate
moonstone iys. "Mrs. Winters, this is Dr. Harold Bet''s special healing salve for Mr. Stone."
I recognized the familiar, expensive salve immediately. Dr. Bet had been the Stone family''s healer for decades, and his special remedies were legendary among werewolves. The distinctive herbal scent wafted from the box - earthy and medicinal.
"Thank you," I said, taking the box and closing the door.
As I opened it, the full aroma filled the air. It was the same scent I had...
"Why
are you j
just standing there? Come and apply the salve," Ethan called, interrupting my thoughts.
I approached the sofa where he sat waiting, his broad shoulders tense with pain and impatience.
"Lie down," I instructed, keeping my voice clinical and detached. "It will be easier to reach all the wounds."
Ethanplied without argument, stretching out on his stomach across the sofa. The position made him look oddly vulnerable – not at all like the powerful Alpha King whomanded the entire Silvercrest Pack.
I sat beside him on the edge of the sofa and began applying the salve, pressing down hard on his wounds
with deliberate force.
"Ouch!" Ethan winced, turning his head to nce at my serious face.
A slight smirk yed on his lips as he lightly pinched my waist. "Be gentle."
I ignored him, continuing to apply the salve with unnecessary pressure. Each time
he flinched, a small, petty part of me felt satisfied. After everything he''d put me through, a little difort seemed like minimal
retribution,
Ethan''s brow twitched, but he remained silent, enduring the pain. When I finally finished, I rose to leave, eager to put distance between us.
As I did, Ethan reached out and caught my waist, pulling me into his arms with surprising strength for someone who''d just been whipped.
"Tormenting me on purpose?" he asked, looking down at me with those amber eyes that once m
race.
my heart
"No," I replied, feigning innocence. I tried to pull his hand away and free myself, but he pulled me back down.
"No?" he questioned, his tone yful.
O Q
0
He swiftly maneuvered us so that he was above me on the sofa, his weight pressing me down into the
cushions.
I cried out in pain as my back made contact with the sofa. The welts from the discipline rod Isabelle had used on me earlier red with fresh agony
Ethan paused, his yful expression immediately reced with concern. He gently turned me onto my side, lifting the back of my shirt to reveal the stark red welts crossing my pale skin.
His gaze turned icy, jaw clenching with barely controlled rage. Without a word, he picked up the salve and began applying it to my injuries, his touch surprisingly gentle.
The cool balm soothed the burning pain, bringing immediate relief. I closed my eyes, momentarily allowing myself to remember a time when his touch was familiar, when his care for me was unquestioned.
"Ethan," I began, my voice tight with suppressed emotion. "Remember when Emma first met Lily and fell into the reflection pool? Wasn''t it simr to today?"
Ethan froze, his gentle touch turning to stone. "What are you trying to say?" he asked, his voice dangerously
low.
I pressed on, undeterred by his anger. This might be my only chance to make him see the truth.
"I''m saying, if there had been surveince cameras by Victoria''s pool that day, wouldn''t the truth have been revealed just like today?"
''Olivia Winters!" Ethan roared, his grip tightening on my back.
I gasped in pain. The brief moment of shared warmth vanished like morning dew
in summer heat.