Rejected By The Alpha Loved By The Rogue

Chapter 8 - What Does He Know?

Raven remained in the bath until the water began to cool, reluctant to leave the warmth even though her muscles were starting to ache from sitting in the same position for too long. The heat had eased some of the stiffness in her body, and after everything she had endured, she had found it surprisingly difficult to convince herself to give up the small comfort of simply sitting there without having to fight, think or pretend she was stronger than she felt.

Eventually, she knew she couldn't stay there forever.

She placed both hands against the edge of the tub and slowly tried to push herself upright, but the moment she put weight through her legs, a sharp pain tore through her ribs and her arms began to tremble beneath her.

Raven sucked in a breath and sank back down with a frustrated exhale.

She waited until the worst of the pain eased before trying again, this time managing to lift herself halfway before her legs suddenly weakened. She caught herself against the side of the tub, gripping it tightly while she fought to steady her breathing.

“Damn it.”

The quiet curse echoed around the small bathroom.

She hated this.

For most of her life, Raven had been the person others relied on when things went wrong. She had dragged injured warriors from battlefields, helped friends back to their feet after training accidents and pushed through her own pain because stopping had never been something she accepted easily. Strength had always been one of the things she could depend on, something that belonged to her regardless of who stood beside her.

Now she couldn't even get herself out of a bath.

Her eyes drifted toward the bathroom door, and she already knew what she needed to do.

Calling Silas was going to be humiliating.

Still, there was no point pretending she could manage when her body was clearly refusing to cooperate.

“Silas?”

There was a brief pause before his voice came from outside.

“What do you need?”

Raven took a slow breath.

“I need help getting out.”

She heard his footsteps approaching almost immediately, and before the door opened, she quickly added, “Keep your eyes closed.”

The door opened only enough for him to enter, and Silas stepped inside with his gaze lowered.

“I am.”

Raven watched him carefully for a moment, expecting at least some awkwardness or hesitation, but he didn't look toward her. Instead, he reached for one of the clean towels and held it out in her direction.

“Drain the tub first. Once the water is gone, wrap this around yourself and I'll get you out.”

Raven nodded.

Silas turned his back completely, giving her the privacy she had asked for without making a fuss about it.

She reached for the plug and waited while the water slowly disappeared down the drain. The process seemed to take forever, and by the time the tub was empty, her arms were trembling from holding herself upright.

Raven grabbed the towel and wrapped it around herself as securely as she could, although keeping it in place while moving proved more difficult than she had expected.

“You can look now.”

Silas turned around.

His gaze remained firmly above her shoulders as he stepped forward and held out his arms.

“Ready?”

“As ready as I'm going to be.”

He slipped one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees, lifting her from the tub with ease.

Raven instinctively caught his shoulder when her feet left the floor, and the movement pulled painfully at her ribs.

She winced.

Silas immediately adjusted his hold, making sure her injured side was supported.

“Easy.”

“I hate this.”

“I know.”

Raven looked at him, surprised by the quiet certainty in his response.

“You know?”

“You've complained about being carried every time I've picked you up.”

She stared at him for a moment before realizing he was right, and despite everything, a faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“Maybe I'll get better at walking.”

“You will.”

There was such quiet certainty in his voice that Raven didn't know what to make of it.

Silas carried her out of the bathroom and into the main room, and Raven immediately noticed that the bed looked different. The sheets had been changed while she was bathing, and fresh blankets had been arranged neatly across the mattress.

“I changed the sheets while you were bathing,” he said.

“You didn't have to.”

“I know.”

There was something almost amusing about the way he said it, as though he had already learned that Raven was going to argue with anything he did for her.

He lowered her carefully onto the edge of the bed before turning his back.

“Get dressed.”

Raven looked at him.

He was standing several feet away with his back toward her, giving her as much privacy as the small room allowed.

She picked up the oversized shirt and slipped it over her head, followed by the boxers he had given her. The shirt fell almost to her knees, and Raven looked down at herself with a small shake of her head.

She couldn't remember the last time she had worn something so large.

“You can turn around.”

Silas did.

His eyes remained on her face, deliberately avoiding the rest of her body as he stepped closer.

His gaze dropped briefly toward her legs.

“You're not walking back.”

Raven opened her mouth to argue, but Silas simply bent down and lifted her again before she could get the words out.

She sighed and rested an arm around his shoulders.

“You really don't give me much choice.”

“You're injured.”

“I know.”

He carried her back to the bed and lowered her onto the freshly changed sheets, making sure she was settled comfortably before releasing her.

Raven adjusted the blanket around herself while Silas stepped back.

For a moment, she simply watched him.

There was something about this man she couldn't understand.

He barely spoke, lived alone in the middle of nowhere and seemed perfectly comfortable with a life that would have driven most people mad. He had found a stranger bleeding to death in the forest and, instead of leaving her where he found her, had carried her all the way back to his cabin and spent three days keeping her alive.

He hadn't demanded anything from her in return.

He hadn't questioned her about her pack, asked what Roman had done or tried to use her weakness against her. Even now, when she had been completely dependent on him, he had gone out of his way to give her privacy.

That made him difficult to understand.

Raven had learned the hard way that kindness could hide another motive, and she wasn't willing to forget that simply because Silas had saved her. Trust was something she would have to give carefully from now on.

Still, curiosity eventually got the better of her.

“Why are you doing this?”

Silas looked at her.

“Doing what?”

“Helping me.”

He was quiet for a moment, his expression giving away nothing as he considered her question.

Then he shrugged slightly.

“You can think of it as me returning the favor.”

Raven frowned.

“The favor?”

Something changed in his eyes, so quickly that she almost wondered if she had imagined it.

Before she could ask what he meant, Silas turned toward the door.

“Get some rest.”

“Silas—”

The door closed behind him.

Raven stared at it for several seconds before slowly leaning back against the pillows.

“What favor?”

She couldn't make sense of his answer.

She had never met him before that night, at least as far as she knew, and yet the way he had spoken made it sound as though there was something between them that she hadn't remembered.

Raven looked toward the closed door, her curiosity growing.

She knew almost nothing about the man who had saved her, and somehow, that bothered her more than it should have.

Silas was a stranger.

A dangerous-looking one at that.

Yet he had carried her when she couldn't walk, protected her when she couldn't defend herself and cared for her when she had been close to death.

For the first time since waking in his cabin, Raven found herself wondering exactly who the quiet rogue was and what he meant when he said he was returning a favor.

Whatever the answer was, she had a feeling Silas had no intention of giving it to her yet.