Her Tortured Mate

Episode 5. Injuries

The river was a sanctuary, its gentle currents singing a soothing melody that contrasted with the chaos of my thoughts. The spot I had chosen lay near a cluster of miniature waterfalls, their steady cascade creating ripples that shimmered under the fading light. I placed my clothes in a neat pile among the others near the water’s edge. The forest around me felt alive yet distant, a cocoon of solitude where the world seemed to hold its breath.

The water was freezing as I slowly sank in, my muscles tightening at the chill that bit into my skin. But in a strange way, it felt refreshing. The coldness consumed me, pulling my attention away from the gnawing worries that had haunted me since this ordeal began. For the first time in what felt like forever, my mind quieted.

Taking a deep breath, I dunked my head under the surface. The icy water enveloped me, muffling the world and forcing me to focus solely on the primal act of breathing as I resurfaced. I ran my fingers through my long, tangled locks, starting the arduous task of washing them. Without a hairdryer, I knew they would take ages to dry, but it was a small price to pay for feeling somewhat clean. Once my hair was done, I moved on to scrubbing my face and body, letting the river wash away the grime and blood.

When I turned my attention to the clothes, the task proved more challenging than I had expected. I had never done this before, but the memory of watching my nanny as a child guided my hands. The fabric resisted, the stains stubbornly clinging, but I persisted. By the time I deemed the clothes wearable, my arms ached, and the sun had dipped lower in the sky.

It was only then that the realization struck me—I had washed every item in the pile. Every single one. My cheeks flushed as the absurdity of my situation dawned. I had nothing dry to wear back to the cave.

I groaned softly and slipped a shirt over my damp skin. The fabric clung uncomfortably, and the chill seeped through, making me shiver. It was unbearable. Muttering curses under my breath, I hung the rest of the clothes on nearby branches to dry and retreated to the cave to grab a blanket.

Once inside, I removed the wet shirt and wrapped the blanket tightly around myself. Its coarse texture scratched against my skin, but it was infinitely better than the icy discomfort of damp clothing. I hung the shirt alongside the other garments, ensuring they caught the fading sunlight, and returned to the cave.

Dominic lay motionless, his breaths shallow and his face pale. I knelt beside him and carefully lifted the bandage around his neck. The wound had stopped bleeding, but it still looked raw and angry. Using a damp cloth, I cleaned the stray blood with gentle strokes, my movements precise but hesitant. Satisfied with the neck wound, I moved to inspect the bandages on his back and side.

His back injuries had clotted, but the gashes along his side were deep and still weeping. I bit my lip, frustration bubbling within me. These wounds needed stitches—there was no way around it. I shook him gently until his eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy.

“The wounds on your side are deep,” I said, my voice steady but firm. “They need stitches. That man did this because you went near the town, so I can’t take you to a doctor. And I don’t know my way out of these woods to bring one here. Do you have anything I can use to help you?”

Dominic groaned and shifted, his movements slow and deliberate. I tried to press him back down, but he was determined. Ignoring my protests, he managed to sit up, his face twisting in pain as he pushed himself to his feet. Dizzy and unsteady, he leaned heavily on me as I guided him toward a set of shelves near the cave’s far wall.

He rummaged through the items, his hands trembling. After what felt like an eternity, he unearthed a small first aid kit. I stared at it, a mix of relief and annoyance washing over me. This had been here the entire time? I snatched it from him and helped him back to the bed, biting back a string of expletives.

Opening the kit, my heart sank. The supplies were old, many of them expired. I sifted through the contents, finding a needle, some thread, and a lighter. The alcohol swabs had dried out long ago, rendering them useless. With limited options, I sterilized the needle with the lighter, the small flame flickering as it danced along the metal. The thread, however, was another matter. I had no way to properly disinfect it, and the risk of infection loomed large.

“Look,” I said, turning to Dominic. “I can stitch these cuts closed, but there’s a risk of infection. Or I can bandage them tightly and try to align the skin as best as I can. That’ll leave scars, and there’s still a chance of infection. The choice is yours.”

Dominic remained silent, his gaze fixed on the wounds. Taking his silence as contemplation, I left him to decide and began scouring the cave. This time, I searched with purpose, determined to avoid another oversight. I looked for anything that could aid his recovery or help me navigate these woods.

The sound of movement behind me made me turn, but Dominic’s arms encircled my waist before I could react. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath warm against my skin. My heart raced, confusion mingling with an unsettling comfort at his closeness.

“There is a third option,” he croaked, his voice raspy from disuse. “But there’s a lot I need to explain.”

He began coughing, the effort of speaking too much for his weakened state. I maneuvered under his arm and guided him back to the bed, my worry overshadowing my irritation.

“You shouldn’t be exerting yourself,” I scolded, checking his neck wound. Blood seeped through the fresh bandage, and the cuts on his side were bleeding freely again. Panic clawed at my chest as I worked quickly to staunch the flow.

I pressed the edges of the cuts together and wrapped them tightly, the makeshift bandage holding the skin in place. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. Once I was done, I adjusted the cloth around his neck and glanced outside. The sky had darkened, the forest shrouded in twilight.

“We can talk about this in the morning,” I said, my tone firm. “Right now, you need rest. Rest well. We’ll deal with everything tomorrow.”

Exhausted, I settled on the far side of the bed, putting as much distance between us as the small space allowed. Wrapping the blanket tightly around myself, I closed my eyes and prayed for sleep to come.