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Leaving me in my chest wrap.

He froze, finally letting go of my wrists and letting my arms lower to my sides.

“Is it bad?” I whispered

Wolf reached for the towel and ran it under the water, all without looking away. “You’re lucky you didn’t drain yourself completely.”

I let my eyes flutter closed as Wolf began wiping the blood away from my arm, starting at my wrist and slowly working up to my shoulder.

“This isn’t working,” he mumbled. “There’s too much blood. Here. I can only heal you partially, but I’ll fill the bath with a healing tonic.” He sliced his hand with his knife, bleeding once again, and placed his palms on my arms. That same healing warmth radiated from him.

“You shouldn’t waste your energy on me. I’m fine.” I knew how risky it was to use blood magic to heal, knew how much it could drain him if he wasn’t careful.

Still, he kept his eyes on me as the deeper gashes in my body closed.

Hells.

“That will have to be enough,” he muttered. “I can’t use too much.”

He moved away for a second, and a moment later, the bath began to fill.

Wolf returned with a gentle touch at my waist. “Stand.”

He lifted me from the counter and set me on my feet before reaching for the waist of my pants.

“I can do it,” I argued.

“No, Huntress.” He ran his thumb up and down my hip bone in an oddly affectionate gesture. “You can’t.”

He knelt before me—for the second time in my life—and peeled away my boots.

One boot was off.

Two boots.

The water filling higher and higher in the bathtub became the only sound in the room, the only one I really registered, though I was sure Wolf could hear how fast my heart beat.

“Hold onto me,” he whispered.

I did, gripping his shoulders while he carefully peeled my combat pants from my sweaty, bruised legs.

Soon enough, I stood in nothing but my chest wrap and my underwear. I should have cared. I should have felt embarrassed or ashamed or exposed.

But I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing, except the way his fingers carefully worked my body.

I didn’t even realize my head had fallen onto his shoulder until his hand came to work his fingers through my messy, knotted hair.

“Come on,” he started. “Let’s get you in the bath. You need the healing salts.”

Slowly, he lifted me in his arms.

Slowly, he let my body dip into the warm water.

A pathetic sound of relief sang from my lips as I let myself sink into the bath. Finally, I found a single ounce of relief from the numbness.

I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my bloodied arms around them.

I was too enthralled in the distraction of the warm, luxurious water to notice the way Wolf moved behind me, tracing the tip of my shoulder with his finger.