Chapter 4: The Wounds They Hid
1293 Words
Once I finished writing the list, I found a measuring tape in one of the kitchen drawers.
Mara watched it move across the board as I wrote down the sizes I estimated for her.
She looked as if every number exposed another piece of her.
I had expected her to be small. I hadn’t expected her to be little more than skin and bone.
If I had placed my hands any higher while measuring her, I would have felt every rib beneath her dress.
It sickened me.
She had Alpha blood in her veins.
She should have been strong.
Instead, she looked as if one hard wind might break her.
I noticed the way her face tightened whenever the tape brushed her waist.
It wasn’t fear.
It was pain.
She was hiding something beneath the oversized dress.
“I know you want to say something,” I said. “So say it.”
Her eyes remained lowered.
“I’m not interested in whatever Rafe taught you to believe. You don’t have to wait until someone asks you a question. You’re allowed to speak.”
Her fingers tightened around the canvas bag.
“Are you injured?”
“No.”
The lie came immediately.
She shook her head as if the movement could make it true, and a strand of black hair slipped free from the band holding it back.
Mara was going to be difficult to reach.
A lifetime of hunger and punishment had taught her to protect every part of herself.
I would have to be patient.
That was not something I was used to.
“If you intend to remain under Ironveil’s protection, you’ll have to speak for yourself,” I said. “I can’t help you if you refuse to show me what’s wrong.”
Her gaze lifted for half a second before dropping again.
“You brought me here to mark me.”
The words were so quiet I almost missed them.
I studied her face. “What makes you think that?”
She took a step back until the kitchen island pressed against her spine.
“I thought that was why you wanted me.”
I understood then.
Rafe had told her nothing about the agreement. He had allowed her to believe she was being handed over like property.
“You are not a slave,” I said. “And I didn’t buy you.”
Her eyes widened.
“The contract places you under Ironveil’s protection. It does not give me ownership of you.”
“I’m a murderer.” Her voice cracked. “Why would someone like you want me under his protection?”
My wolf growled.
*Blood.*
I looked down.
A dark stain had spread across the side of her dress, directly beneath where I had measured her.
“What is that?”
Mara covered the stain with her hand. “It’s nothing. Just a cut.”
The scent of blood had already filled the kitchen.
“It’s more than a cut.”
“I keep knocking it open,” she murmured. “I forget it’s there.”
Forget?
How could anyone forget a wound?
My wolf shifted restlessly.
*She isn’t healing.*
The truth struck me at once.
Her bound wolf had taken more from her than instinct and scent. It had taken her ability to recover.
“How long has it been there?”
Mara didn’t answer.
“Mara.”
“A while.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Her shoulders pulled inward.
“I’ll find a healer.”
“It’s fine.”
I was already tired of hearing those words.
“It isn’t fine.”
She looked toward the hallway.
“Show me.”
Her fingers pressed harder against the bloodstain. “It’s not serious.”
“You don’t get to decide that while you’re bleeding through your clothes.”
Her heartbeat quickened.
“Can we go somewhere private?”
The request stopped me.
I didn’t do privacy. Not when something important was being hidden inside it.
But Mara had asked.
“Of course.”
I gestured toward the hall. “My office.”
She followed closely behind me.
The scent of blood grew stronger with every step.
It was far more than a cut.
In the office, I closed the door and lowered the blinds. The room darkened, shutting out the bright morning.
Mara hesitated beside the desk.
“You can show me only the wound,” I said. “You don’t have to remove anything else.”
She nodded and slowly unfastened the buttons near the stain.
The dress parted just enough to reveal her side.
The wound was nearly four inches long.
Its edges were swollen and red.
It had begun to infect.
Mara looked down at it. “See? It’s fine.”
“You need to stop saying that.”
Her mouth closed.
She began fastening the buttons again.
Then I saw the bruise along her ribs.
“Wait.”
She froze.
“There’s more.”
“No.”
The answer was barely audible.
I kept my voice even. “I need to know the extent of your injuries so I can get you treated.”
Her eyes moved toward the closed door.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” I said.
The promise seemed to frighten her more than it reassured her.
I understood why.
Promises had probably been used against her before.
Mara slowly released the buttons.
The fabric opened enough for me to see the bruising beneath it.
Bruise upon bruise covered her ribs and stomach. Some were yellowing at the edges. Others were fresh.
Thin scars crossed her skin in raised lines.
Whip marks.
My wolf snarled.
*Kill them all.*
I wanted to.
Mara’s sports bra had been washed too many times to hold its shape. Her underwear was no better. Her hip bones and ribs stood out beneath her skin.
She looked away as if she were ashamed of what had been done to her.
I forced myself not to reach for her.
Not because I didn’t want to touch her.
Because she had spent too long being touched without permission.
“Turn around,” I said.
She obeyed after a moment.
When she turned, I saw that her back was marked the same way.
Bruises.
Scars.
Old wounds that had never been treated properly.
But the injuries stopped above her chest and below her thighs. Her arms were untouched.
There was only one reason for that.
They had hidden what they were doing.
The marks were placed where clothing would conceal them. Anywhere another pack might see. Anywhere a visiting Alpha might look.
More importantly, anywhere they thought I wouldn’t.
Mara pulled the dress tightly around her thin frame.
“You need a healer.”
“It always heals eventually.”
“Not this time.”
She lowered her eyes.
“Did Rafe do this?”
Her fingers tightened around the fabric.
“Mara.”
She didn’t answer.
“Cal?”
Her breathing changed.
“The woman at Rafe’s side?”
Nothing.
“All three of them?”
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
She lifted one hand to her face and brushed away a tear before it could fall.
“Anyone else?”
“The pack,” she whispered.
My wolf paced beneath my skin.
They all knew.
“Because of what they believe you did to your parents?”
Mara nodded.
“I don’t believe you were responsible.”
Her head lifted.
For the first time since we entered the office, she looked directly at me.
Her brow pulled together. “Because of the bloodbane?”
The word settled between us.
And suddenly, I understood that Mara knew more about that night than she had ever told anyone.
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