Chapter 15: Tending Wounds

Seraphine's POV

I walked past him, my body still screaming from the run. Every muscle felt like it had been pulled apart and stitched back together wrong. But I kept my spine straight. Refused to let him see how close I was to collapsing.

The interior hit me all at once—clean lines, modern furniture, a fireplace crackling with low flames. Abstract paintings hung on the walls, all sharp angles and muted colors. Nothing soft. Nothing warm.

Just like him.

"Wait here." Kaelen disappeared toward a staircase, opening a closet tucked beside it.

I stood in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around myself. The clothes I wore—what was left of them—were shredded, blood-stained, barely holding together. I looked like I'd crawled out of a grave.

Because you almost did.

Fabric hit my chest before I could process the movement. I caught it on instinct—a dark gray long-sleeve shirt and black sweatpants. Both way too big.

"Upstairs. First door on the left." Kaelen already had his phone to his ear. "Shower. Change. Now."

Bossy bastard.

But I didn't argue. The thought of washing away the blood, the dirt, the lingering scent of fear—it was too tempting.

I climbed the stairs, legs shaking with each step. Behind me, I heard his voice drop lower.

"Cordelia. Get Lucian and Orion. Come to my place. Immediately. Emergency."

A pause.

"I'll explain when you get here. Just come."

---

The bathroom was as minimalist as the rest of the house. Gray tiles, glass shower, white towels folded with military precision.

I stripped off the ruined clothes, dropping them in a heap on the floor. My reflection in the mirror stopped me cold.

God.

I barely recognized myself. Hollow cheeks. Purple shadows under my eyes. Scratches crisscrossing my arms and shoulders. And my neck—

My fingers drifted to the mark without thinking.

The moment I touched it, electricity shot through my entire body. Not painful. Worse than painful.

Pleasurable.

I yanked my hand away, breath coming fast.

No. No, no, no.

The mark pulsed beneath my skin, warm and insistent. A constant reminder of what I'd done. What I'd tied myself to.

I turned away from the mirror and stepped into the shower, cranking the water as hot as it would go.

Steam filled the space. Water beat against my skin, washing away layers of grime and blood. I scrubbed hard, trying to erase the last twenty-four hours. Trying to forget.

But the mark stayed.

"Focus, Seraphine," I whispered, pressing my forehead against the tile. "Lyralei is what matters. Only Lyralei."

She's out there. Alone. Maybe hurt. Maybe—

"Stop it." My voice cracked. "She's alive. She has to be alive."

I stayed under the spray until my skin turned pink, until the water ran clear. Until I couldn't avoid going back downstairs anymore.

---

The clothes hung off me like a tent. I had to roll the sweatpants three times just to keep them from dragging on the floor. The shirt fell past my hips, sleeves covering my hands.

At least they're clean.

I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror as I descended. Even half-drowned in Kaelen's clothes, even gaunt and exhausted, my bone structure showed through. The mark on my neck stood out against pale skin—dark, deliberate, impossible to miss.

He marked you. Everyone who sees you will know.

My stomach twisted.

Kaelen was in the living room, standing by the fireplace. His eyes tracked me as I came down the stairs, lingering for just a second before he looked away.

"Sit." He gestured to the couch, already moving toward a cabinet.

"I'm fine."

"You're bleeding through my shirt." He pulled out a white box—first aid kit. "Sit down."

I glanced at my arm. He was right. Small spots of red were seeping through the sleeve.

Fuck.

"I can take care of it myself."

"Sit. Down." The command in his voice made my wolf stir uneasily.

Alpha tone. Great.

But when he mentioned Lyralei—"Your sister is still out there. You want to help her? Don't get an infection"—I stopped fighting.

I sat.

Kaelen knelt in front of me, pulling back the sleeve to expose the gashes on my forearm. His touch was careful. Methodical. Nothing like the frantic coupling from before.

The antiseptic stung like hell when it hit the wound. I sucked in a breath, teeth clenched.

"Sorry," he muttered, not looking up.

Is he actually apologizing?

I turned my face away, but I could still feel him. The warmth of his hands. The focus in his movements. The bond humming between us, getting stronger the closer he got.

And the mark—god, the mark—started heating up.

I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste copper.

Control it. Don't react. Don't—

"Your leg." Kaelen's voice pulled me back. "Let me see."

I hesitated, then pulled up the pant leg.

The trap wound looked worse than I remembered. Deep punctures where the teeth had sunk in, surrounded by mottled purple and yellow bruising. The skin was hot to the touch, swollen.

Kaelen's jaw tightened. "Bear trap?"

"Hunter's trap. In the forest." The memory flashed—metal teeth closing, Lyralei screaming, the world tilting as I hit the ground. "When we were running."

His fingers hovered over the injury, not quite touching. "This needs proper treatment. Antibiotics, probably."

"I'll be fine."

"You'll lose the leg if it gets infected."

Before I could respond, three sharp knocks echoed through the house.

Kaelen's head snapped toward the door. "They're here."

---

He opened the door to reveal three figures.

The woman entered first—tall, built like a fighter, with deep brown skin and black hair pulled into intricate braids. Amber eyes swept the room before landing on me.

"You sounded like Shadowmere was under attack." Her voice was rich, amused. "This better be good, Kael."

"Cordelia." Kaelen stepped aside.

Behind her came a man who looked almost identical—same skin tone, same hair, but taller. Broader. A short beard lined his jaw.

"Lucian," Kaelen greeted.

The third was younger, maybe mid-twenties. Blond hair, pale skin, green eyes that immediately zeroed in on me. His nose twitched.

"Orion."

All three stopped when they saw me.

I tensed, every instinct screaming to run. To shift. To fight.

Strangers. Too many strangers. Get out, get out, get—

"Relax." Kaelen's voice cut through the panic. Not gentle, but steady. "They're pack. They won't hurt you."

Through the bond, I felt his certainty. His trust in these people.

Doesn't mean I have to trust them.

Cordelia's lips curved into a slow smile. "Well, well." She inhaled deeply. "Fresh mating mark. And it's yours, Kael. Didn't think I'd see the day."