47
With our victory song over, quiet descended. Sean and I stepped around Matthew’s form. He let out a whine as his warm tongue stung the bite on my leg. From there, his nose pressed to my injured hip. His sniff preceded a nudge, and he led me somewhere more private.
The swelling and yet-to-arrive bruising hurt like hell as my body pushed back through the change. In my crouched position, chest heaving, my eyes opened to Sean’s, mere inches away. For seconds, we stared into one another before he drew me into his embrace.
His hands swept over my back, my face, my hair, as his lips gave their own style of healing to my body and tender hip. I, in turn, showered him with the same level of devotion, discovering Sean had been bitten, clawed, and battered, also.
Ethan interrupted our silent me
