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The horrors my girl has probably lived through … I don’t want to think about it.

“Turn around,” I murmur and grab the purple loofah sitting on the shelf.

She obeys, reluctantly letting me go. I think we’re both going to be needy for the foreseeable future.

Squirting berry scented soap onto the loofah, I get to work cleaning her from the neck all the way down to the tips of her toes. I take my time and gently scrub at stubborn grime. Each scrape, bruise, and scar I spot on her body I pepper with a kiss, trying to erase whatever memories cling to them.

She’s here. She’s safe.

I must be stuck in my thoughts longer than I think, because next thing I know, Celine is facing me with a look of understanding on her sweet face. She strokes my jaw with the back of her hand and holds my gaze to communicate silently we’re here and we’re okay.

Celine takes the loofah from my limp hand and begins to clean my chest. Her eyes are hyper-focused on my skin and getting rid of every bit of dirt and blood. She takes my glasses off my face and sets them outside the shower to rub at my face with a damp washcloth. Due to my shit eyesight things go blurry but I focus on the feeling of her cleaning me up.

Both of us naked and in close quarters it could easily be sexual, but this is more than that. It’s coming home and reminding each other we made it through and we’re together. The intimacy and closeness I feel with Celine in this moment is monumental.

I feel her tremble and open one eye to see her tears. Gathering her in my arms I lower us to the floor of the shower. She sobs into my chest, gut wrenching cries that I know she’s been holding in for two long weeks. I periodically place kisses on her forehead, her chin, her eyes.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl.” I rest my chin on top of her head and close my eyes as I lean against the shower wall. “The next time you want to fight, please don’t tell me I can’t follow,” I beg.

That pulls a watery laugh from her. “I bet you followed anyway.”

“I did,” I concede. “But apparently I gave you too long of a head start.”

She sniffles again. “I’m sorry about Tom. I know he meant a lot to you.”

I stiffen and squeeze her tighter. “You know about Tom?”

“Genevieve brought me a chess piece. It had dried blood. It didn’t take much to figure it out.”

“My smart girl,” I croon, kissing the corner of her mouth.

Her round brown eyes lock on mine. Even with my vision blurred it would be impossible not to miss the intensity in her gaze. She strokes her fingers lovingly over my cheek, down the slope of my nose, before finally tracing the curve of my mouth.

“I meant it, you know?”

“What?” I rub my face against her neck, and she gives me a gentle shove so I’m forced to look at her.

“That I love you.” She presses a soft kiss to my lip. “You might be a little insane, and kill bad people, and show up everywhere I am but you’re mine and I love you.”

I thought I might never hear those words from her and now I fear I’ll never get sick of them.

I clear my throat, suddenly thick with emotion. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s loved me.”

She cups my cheeks in her hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll love you enough to make up for every time you felt unloved.”

She leans in and kisses me and as much as I want to deepen it, make it more, I don’t because I don’t know exactly what kind of trauma she’s been through, so I’ll let her lead, and I’ll follow. I’m perfectly fine with being on her leash. Kinky, but true.

When the water grows cold, I reach up and turn it off and stand with her in my arms, carrying her out of the bathroom and to her room. I lay her down on the bed and grab my glasses and wipe them dry before I turn toward the dresser to get her something to wear.

“Zav?” she says softly, and I look over my shoulder, groaning at the sight of her sprawled on the bed damp and naked. Her body is perfect and the divots in her hips call for me to place my hands there, but I’m a good boy and stay right where I am. Her well-being matters more to me than trying to be all over her.

I swallow hard. “Yes?”

“I … I want you to…” She licks her lips and sits up, balancing on her knees. “I want our bond,” she says finally. “I want to do whatever it is I need to so I can accept the mating bond.”

My lips part and dammit if all the blood in my body doesn’t go south straight to my dick.

Down boy. Now is not the time. I mean it. You’re embarrassing me.