Rich Blood

Chapter 10: Tensions Rising

I follow the scent around the room, and towards the master bathroom.

I open the door, and the steam from a hot shower escapes the out immediately. Once my eyes adjust, I find the Lycan King, freshly showered, in only a towel in front of a mirror, attempting to tend a deep bloody scratch on the back of his right shoulder.

The sight of his bare chest and abs made my core tense up. He could have been sculpted from clay. Sure, there were a few battle scars, but it added to the allure, especially with beads of water rippling down every muscle. He had survived fights, he was strong, he was capable, he was sexy as hell, he was....looking right at me.

"Yes?" He snapped, as he tried to clean the wound, but the massive size of his muscular arms didn't give him that much flexibility.

"You're hurt." I pause. "Please, let me help."

I don't know if I want to help for the sake of helping or if I just want an excuse to touch him.

I watched him weigh his options so I added, "I know what I am doing, I have taken care of tons of Feral wounds. I know how to treat them."

I walked closer, deciding that I wouldn't take no as an answer, but it was mostly my wolf wanting me to be closer to him, I think? Who knows. I did know how to treat Feral wounds.

"How have you treated it so far?" I ask, taking the cloth he had been attempting to clean the wound with out of his hand and taking over.

"I can do it myself." He snarled.

"I know you can, but I can do it faster. Do you have any horsetail solution?" I opened the medicine cabinet to search. He didn't answer, horsetail wasn't a commonly known remedy for wounds as it was ancient, but being the heir of an ancient line of Lycans, he must know of it. I turn around and wait for him to answer, looking him dead in the eyes.

He is obviously caught off guard at my knowledge of such medicines, but there is another look in his eyes, intrigue?

"Well?"

"Under the sink, far right the cabinet. Tin box."

"Thank you." I smile, and go to grab it, I feel his eyes still on me as I turn my back. Once I get what I need, I turn around and gesture for him to sit on the edge of the walk in shower, so I can more easily access his shoulder. Surprisingly he does as he is told.

I look over to the shower and see where there is still blood in the shower from where he had originally washed off the wound. "I'll clean that up later. But first, let's get you taken care of."

I finally get a good look at the wound on his shoulder and I see that just as I suspected, it is won't stop bleeding. "How long have you been bleeding?"

"Three hours, give or take a bit."

I place the horsetail solution on a cotton cloth and place it on the wound. "They must have used a lot of hemlock and conium in this batch." Ferals, while brutal, are also quite cunning and organized, they take these two plants, extract the oils from them and place it under their nails, as a form of biological warfare.That way when they scratch, they leave a longer lasting wound and in the weak or young, sometimes it can lead to death.

We didn't speak for a few minutes, I allowed the horsetail to soak out the toxins and clean the residual blood from his back. Then I made my way to check the rest of this body, might as well while I'm here.

I spot a smaller, less serious scratch on his chest, but it is still slightly bleeding so I add some solution to cotton and place it to soak.

After its placed, my hand lingers a moment on his chest, tracing the outline of his pecs. He is solidly built.

Just this slight touch on his skin is intoxicating. My eyes move across every inch of his bare skin, down to his abdomen where he has a perfectly chiseled V, even when sitting and his crisp white towel pulled around his waist showed the outline of his bulge. My eyes widen at the mere sight, my whole core heated with excitement.

"How do you know about horsetail? I've never met any were who did."

This shook me out of my hypnosis. I looked back up at his face and blush, when I realize he knew exactly where my eyes had trailed off to.

"Oh, my mother. She was a healer." I return to his back and peel back the cotton just a touch to see if the horsetail had done its job. "It's stopped bleeding, but...you may need stitches."

"I won't go to the hospital, they are already overflowing with injured from the attack. I won't take away care from those who need it more." He paused. "Can you do it?"

"Yes, of course." Despite this catching me off guard, I was actually happy he asked me to.

"If you go back under the counter, in that same metal tin, there should be supplies."

I grab the supplies, sanitize and prepare the site to be stitched. "This will hurt, do you need anything to take for it?"

"No." His answer was solid, definite.

I go ahead and begin to stitch the wound up. I feel his body tense up with every piercing of the needle but not once does he whimper in pain. Instead he opts for conversation.

"I didn't realize there were healers in the southern packs."

"Well, my mother was a part of a nomadic pack." "How did she end up with your father then? Most nomadic packs would rather gnaw their arms off than belong to a territory."

I pause, wondering if I should tell him, I'm not sure why but it all seems so intimate and not just because he's in a towel and I am sewing his flesh together. I decide it's best to go with the abridged truth. "Long story short, my mother was pregnant with my brother."

"Ah." I think he could read between the lines but even doing that doesn't reveal the honest half of it.

I continue, trying to get away from the conversation of how she came to be with my father. "Anyway, she died when I was young. I hadn't even had my first shift yet. My voice cracked a little. I never got to speak of my mother, my father forbade it and my brother seemed indifferent towards the topic.

He didn't say anything for a moment, but in a low, soft voice he said "I'm sorry, Selene."

I look up at the mirror where my eyes and his meet again in the reflection. Without breaking the contact he went on- "We don't have to talk about it -"

I felt tears swell. "No, it's okay. I actually like talking about her. She was wonderful in human form and wolf."

"Which nomadic pack was she from?"

"Hold on, I am almost done with this last stitch." I finish it up, then clean the around, and go to put the materials up and wash my hands. "I believe they were called the Nyx."

"Huh." His tone is inquisitive.

"What?"

"Nothing. It just...makes sense."

"What?" I said a little more annoyed.

"Why you're so hard to read." I look at him, not understanding.

"You do know about the Nyx's traditional powers? Right?"

I shook my head.

"Well, there are several of them that are shared with Lycans and traditional packs like telepathy, divination, empathy, clairvoyance, and so on but there is also the more rare powers of dreamscaping, astral projection and mindshielding."

"Mindshielding?"

"That's why I can't read your mind, that's why no one can."

I wanted to respond to this but I couldn't. I watch as he turns his shoulder towards the mirror to see the stitch work. "You did good, your mother taught you well."

At this he stands up and walks so close to me that I lean against the counter, his 6'3" frame towered over me. I couldn't look at him. If I did, I would have pounced.

"Selene?"

"Hm?" The closer he got the more my body ached for him. He placed both hands on the counter, careful not to touch me, but close enough to where I could feel his body heat.

"Thank you." He lowered his voice. His breath found itself on my neck making my wolf whimpering in delight. I finally give into her and look up into those gray eyes.

The heat between the two of us is palpable. I feel his arms slide closer to me. Just his closeness is enough to make me squeeze my thighs together.

Then there is a f*****g knock on the door.