Chapter 28 Does It Hurt?
INDIE
The laughter that came out of Zade was wrong. It wasn't his usual dark, dangerous chuckle. It was raw. It shook his whole body, bouncing off the tiled walls. His head tipped back against the rim of the tub, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes from the force of it.
I froze, the cloth still dripping pink water onto his thigh.
"Zade?" My voice came out small.
He dragged a wet hand down his face and pushed his hair back, still chuckling.
I dropped the cloth. Water sloshed as I shifted closer on my knees, gripping the edge of the tub.
Zade's violet eyes met mine. For once, they weren't guarded. They were exhausted and haunted.
"Varak wasn't my lover, Bunny."
I gulped, preparing myself for the worst.
"He was my captor."
I couldn't breathe. My fingers dug into the porcelain so hard my nails scraped.
"Five years," he continued, his voice flat. "He held me in the pit. He broke me until I went mad. Forced me to raise the dead over and over until I begged. He branded and owned every part of me he could reach."
His hand lifted from the water, dripping, and brushed the worst scar low on his abdomen.
"He used me, Indie. As a weapon. As a toy. As proof that nothing stays dead if he doesn't want it to."
Rage exploded in my chest.
The scream stayed trapped in my throat at first. Then it tore out.
"He WHAT?!"
I shot to my feet, water spraying everywhere. My hands shook uncontrollably. Flames lit up at my fingertips, licking up my arms.
"That fucking monster! He tortured you? He branded you? He—"
I couldn't even say it. The word 'raped' stuck in my throat like broken glass.
Tears poured down my face, my vision tinged red.
"Zade!" I sobbed his name, dropping back to my knees so hard it hurt. My hands hovered over him like I was afraid to touch and break him more. "Five years? He did that to you for five years, and I— I was married to West? Playing house while you were—"
A guttural scream ripped out of me. I slammed my fist into the tile beside the tub. Pain shot up my arm, but I didn't care.
"I'll kill him." My voice turned feral. "I'll burn him alive. I'll make him scream until his throat bleeds. I'll raise every corpse he ever touched and let them tear him apart—"
Zade caught my wrist gently, pulling me forward until I collapsed half into the tub, sobbing against his wet chest.
"Bunny—"
"No!" I shoved back just enough to glare at him through my tears, my flames still dancing over my skin. "Don't you dare tell me it doesn't matter. He...ruined you—"
A raw, ugly sob tore from my chest. I buried my face in his neck, clutching him so hard my nails dug into his shoulders.
"You're mine," I choked out, my voice muffled against his skin. "Not his. Never his. I don't care what he did. You're mine, Zade. Mine. Mine. Mine."
He held me tighter, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other rubbing slow circles on my back.
"I know, Bunny," he murmured, his voice rough. "I know."
I pulled back, my tears streaming, and kissed every scar I could reach. My lips pressed hard against them as if I could erase them with touch alone.
"I'll kill him," I whispered again. "For every scar. Every night you spent in the dark. Every time he made you feel small. I'll make it hurt worse than he ever hurt you."
Zade's hand cupped my wet cheek, his thumb wiping my tears.
"I'm counting on it, bunny," he said softly. "For now... just stay. Stay with me."
I collapsed against him again, sobbing into his neck as the water cooled around us.
Rage and guilt crashed through me in waves so violent I thought I'd break apart.
But I held onto him.
I couldn't stop staring at the scars.
They were brutal. Some were pale and old. Others were darker or fresher, as though the skin had never been given time to forget.
My hand trembled as I reached out.
The moment my fingertips brushed the worst of them—the one that curved around him—Zade's entire body tensed.
"Does it hurt?" I whispered, my voice cracking. My fingers traced the ridge slowly, feather-light, afraid even that much pressure would reopen something.
He didn't answer. He just watched me with unreadable violet eyes, his jaw clenched.
Fresh tears welled in my own eyes.
"Zade... does it still hurt?"
Barely audibly, he let out a rough exhale. I knew it was because he wouldn't admit that he was still hurting. Still stuck in the aftermath.
What if all the times he'd pleasured me, he'd only felt agony?
No. I needed to fix it.
I pressed my palm flat over the scar, covering as much of it as I could. My other hand joined the first, cradling him gently.
"Close your eyes," I said, my voice shaking.
He searched my face for a long second. Then he obeyed. His lashes fluttered shut. And then the tension in his shoulders eased.
I drew in a shaky breath and let my power rise.
Golden light bloomed under my palms, soft at first, then brighter and warmer. Healing energy poured out of me in slow waves. I moved my hands in small, careful circles, massaging the scarred flesh with light pressure, letting the light sink deep.
Zade's breath caught in his throat. A soft, ragged pant slipped past his lips. Then another.
His chest began to rise and fall faster. The muscles in his abdomen flexed and released. I felt him grow beneath my hands, slowly at first, then thicker and harder, the scars stretching tight across his swelling flesh. The ridges pulled taut, white lines turning pink as blood rushed beneath them.
I couldn't believe I was only seeing it now.
How beautiful he was.
More golden light shone from my fingertips. I pressed harder, kneading the scars with gentle strokes. One by one they began to fade, until the skin looked new and untouched.
Zade's head tipped back as he let out a moan.
His hips jerked involuntarily as the scars kept fading.
I moved my hands in tighter circles, my thumbs tracing the last stubborn ridges, pouring every drop of healing I had into him. The light glowed brighter, wrapping around us both like a cocoon.
His breathing turned ragged.
"Indie—" His voice cracked.
Then he came.
A raw, guttural groan ripped out of him as his release spurted across my hands. His whole body shuddered, his chest heaving while his abs contracted in frantic waves. The last of the scars smoothed away beneath my palms until nothing remained but flawless, golden skin.
He was whole again.
His pretty cock was flushed, unmarred, and glistening.
For a long moment neither of us moved. Then he opened his eyes.
The gratitude in them brought a shaky smile to my lips. There were no words we could say to capture the fragility of this moment. But I felt his emotions in his stare.
I leaned forward and pressed my forehead to his.
"You're mine," I whispered, my voice thick. "And no one gets to mark you ever again."
His arms came around me, crushing me against his chest, water sloshing over the rim.
...
A while later, we were back in the bedroom.
Zade had fallen asleep the moment his head touched the pillow. I'd helped him out of the tub, dried him carefully with the softest towel I could find, and guided him to bed like he was something fragile.
He hadn't protested once. He just let me tuck him into bed.
Now he lay on his side facing me, one arm flung across the mattress as if he was still reaching for me even in sleep. I sat cross-legged beside him, a damp cloth in my hand, gently dabbing at his forehead.
His skin felt cooler.
I pressed the back of my fingers to his temple, then his cheek, then the side of his neck.
The fever had broken.
I leaned down and pressed my lips to his forehead, lingering there, breathing him in.
"Thank you," I whispered against his skin, even though he couldn't hear me. "For coming back. For always coming back."
I brushed a damp strand of black hair off his brow. He looked younger like this. Almost peaceful.
A soft knock came at the door.
I slipped off the bed, padded barefoot across the floor, and cracked the door just enough to see Mason standing there, his arms folded.
"How is he?" He asked softly.
"He’s asleep. The fever’s gone." My voice was barely above a whisper. "He's... exhausted. He'll be out for a while."
Mason nodded.
"Is it okay for the Alpha to miss the ceremony?" I asked, glancing back at Zade. "They're going to expect him. The packs, the elders—"
"I'll handle it," Mason said firmly. "He's not going anywhere tonight. Neither are you. Just... take care of him, Indie. That's all that matters right now."
I swallowed hard and nodded.
"Thank you," I whispered.
Mason gave me a small, tired smile.
"Get some rest too. He'll need you when he wakes up."
He stepped back. I closed the door softly, turned the lock, and returned to the bed.
Zade had shifted in his sleep. His brow was furrowed now. A distressed sound slipped from his throat, and my heart sank.
I climbed onto the mattress carefully, sliding under the covers beside him. I wrapped both arms around his broad back, pulling him against me until his head tucked under my chin. I pressed my lips to the crown of his head and started humming the same soft lullaby I used to sing to Lila when nightmares woke her.
The same one my mother used to hum to me.
Zade's breathing slowed.
I kept humming, my fingers stroking through his damp hair, until his body finally relaxed completely against mine.
For a little while, everything was quiet.
Then there was another knock.
I tensed up.
Mason's voice came through the wood, urgent.
"Indie? Can you come out to the sitting room for a second?"
I hesitated.
Mason knocked again.
I pressed one last kiss to Zade's temple. Then I slipped out of bed and padded barefoot to the door.
The hallway was dim.
Mason stood a few steps away, his expression unreadable.
"This way," he said.
I followed him down the corridor, past closed doors, until we reached the sitting room at the end of the hall.
He pushed the door open.
I stepped inside. And froze. The sitting room was gone.
Only trees remained.
The door had vanished behind me.
I took one step forward, my chest heaving. “Hello?”
A familiar voice spoke behind me. “There you are.”
Letting out a gasp, I whirled around to find West’s mother standing there, a glint in her eyes.