Page 49

As the heat begins to seep into her skin, I feel a flicker of hope. Just a flicker.

But it’s enough.

I can’t help but let out a soft purr, a low, comforting sound that rumbles in my chest before I even realise it. It’s instinctive, a way to soothe her as she rests in the warmth.

It feels like an age before she stirs, but it’s probably only a couple of minutes at most.

Her eyes flicker open, hazy at first, and she looks straight at me.

“Eviana,” I murmur, keeping my voice calm, even though inside, I’m a mess. “You’re okay. Just relax, Evie. You’re safe, little one.”

She doesn’t move for a moment, her breathing shallow. Then, suddenly, her eyes widen, and she tries to pull away, panic rising in her chest.

“What happened?!” she gasps, her voice frantic as she tries to sit up.

I lean in closer, my alpha instincts roaring to the surface as I sense the rising panic in her. “It’s okay,” I say softly, the deep rumble of my voice low and soothing. “You fell off the roof. You hit your head. But you’re alright now. We’ve got you. Please, just relax for a moment.”

Her body trembles, her hands clinging to the sides of the bath, her eyes darting around. I can feel her fight against it, but I’m not letting her pull away. My hand gently cups the backof her head, holding her steady in the water. “It’s alright,” I murmur, my voice dropping lower, soothing, like I’m talking to a scared animal.

She hesitates, her body stiff at first, but my presence seems to ground her. Slowly, she relaxes into the warmth of the water, and the tension in her shoulders eases.

I feel her body soften against mine, her breath steadying. She’s still afraid, but the panic’s faded, and relief floods through me, easing the tightness in my chest.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice small, barely audible. “I…I didn’t want…I should have called...”

I shake my head, brushing her wet hair back from her face with care. She’s still bleeding, the steam of the hot bath not helping matters, but it’s hardly a priority right now. No. Comforting my omega is. “You’re not a burden, Eviana. We’re here for you.”

She nods, but I can see it in her eyes. She’s still fighting something, still unsure. “You should go. You should just…leave. You don’t need to be here. I’m fine.”

I don’t flinch at her words, don’t let them push me away. “We’re not leaving until we know you’re okay,” I say firmly. “You might have a concussion. We need to make sure.”

Her eyes flicker with something else – embarrassment or maybe frustration. But then Blaise’s voice cuts through the tension. He’s standing at the bathroom door now, his expression dark.

“What the hell were you doing on the roof?” he demands, his voice low but angry. I know it’s his fear talking, but I still wince. He shouldn’t be taking it out on her. No omega deserves to be spoken to like that, but especially notouromega.

Eviana flinches, like she expected this, but she doesn’t answer immediately. She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I wastrying to fix the porch. It’s been leaking, and I thought I could handle it.”

Blaise curses under his breath, pacing in place. “You’re insane, you know that? You could’ve died. Wetoldyou to message us.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” she snaps back, a flash of defiance in her voice, but there’s an exhaustion there now, something worn out. “I didn’t message because I didn’t need help!”

“I’m fixing it.” Blaise turns to walk out, a fire in his eyes. “Don’t move. I’m going to take care of it.”

“Dane? Find us some towels please. And blankets. Light the fire and get some hot drinks on. Look for a first aid kit too for this cut. She might need stitches.”

Dane nods and slips away to do what I’ve asked, leaving me alone with Eviana in the steam. The tension is palpable, but I remain focused on her.

“You’re safe now,” I repeat, my voice calm. “And we’re not leaving you alone.”

Her eyes soften, just for a second, and I see her fighting it – fighting the urge to shut us out. She’s trying to hold on to her independence, but it’s slipping. And I can see that, despite everything, she’s starting to trust us a little bit.

I pet her hair gently, a soft, reassuring motion, and she melts into me, the resistance fading as she sighs deeply and rubs herself against my chest. She’s not fighting anymore.

And that’s when she freezes, her body going rigid in the water, her eyes wide as she realises what she’s doing.

But before she can pull away, I keep my hand at the back of her head, gently holding her in place. I don’t force her, but I won’t let her run.

“Shh, it’s okay,” I murmur. “Relax.”