King Zavan’s hold was firm.
I flinched, reflexively tugging from him as he blotted the handkerchief between my fingers, but there was no give in his clasp. Somehow, it did not hurt either, not anymore than the burns did.
“My King Alpha–” I tried pulling away again.
“A burn like this will scar if left untreated,” he emphasized as if I were dim.
While staying me in place within one of his large hands, he reached the other into a desk drawer and pulled out a healing ointment. But when he removed the handkerchief, the scalds were gone– the red blotches of blistered flesh had faded.
The King gave great pause, eyes looking over his soaked documents where steam still rose from the spillage.
“How…,” his voice trailed off as if he were still trying to find an obvious answer for himself before
