Chapter 85 Untitled Chapter
Sable’s POV
“So,” I said, staring at the ceiling, “what does a girl have to do to get a bath around here?”
“A ‘please’ usually helps,” he said dryly.
I huffed out a breath that might’ve been a laugh if my ribs didn’t ache when I tried. “Please don’t make me smell like antiseptic and fear anymore.”
That got him. A real smile, quick and gone, but it softened the hard lines in his face.
“Alright,” he said, pushing to his feet. “You win. I’ll draw you a bath.”
I turned my head just enough to watch him move toward the bathroom, tall and sure. The sound of running water followed him.
When he came back a few minutes later, he leaned against the doorframe. “You think you can sit up?”
“I think I can try,” I said.
I shifted, trying to sit up. The moment I did, pain flared through my ribs and shoulders, sharp enough to make me suck in a breath.
Kier was moving before I could finish the sound.
“Hey” he said, hands hovering, as if he was unsure whether to touch me. “Don’t rush it.”
“I’m fine,” I lied automatically.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re terrible at lying.”
I rolled my eyes and tried again, slower this time, bracing myself with my arms. My body trembled, weak and uncooperative. The wolfbane was still clinging to me, a dull fog that hadn’t quite lifted.
Kier swore under his breath.
“Okay,” he said. “That’s enough.”
Before I could argue, his hands slid under my knees and behind my back, and he lifted me like I weighed nothing at all.
“Kier!” I yelped. “What are you doing?”
“Carrying you.”
“I noticed!” I grabbed his shirt on instinct. “Put me down.”
“No.”
“Kier, put me..."
“I heard you,” he cut in calmly. “And I’m still not putting you down.”
My pulse kicked up. “You can’t just...”
“I can,” he said, cutting me off again. “And I am.”
He moved easily, like this wasn’t the most intimate thing he could’ve done short of kissing me. My body betrayed me immediately, curling into his chest for balance.
I froze.
So did he.
For half a second, neither of us breathed.
“Sorry,” I muttered, trying to pull back.
“Don’t,” he said softly. “You’re fine.”
The bathroom door was already open. Steam curled out, warm and inviting. The tub was full, water gently rippling.
He set me down carefully on the edge of the tub, making sure I was steady before he let go. The second his hands left me, a spike of panic shot through my chest.
“Wait,” I said, too fast.
He paused instantly, turning back. “What?”
“Don’t—” I searched for the word, hating how small my voice sounded. “Don’t leave yet.”
His expression shifted, something raw flickering through it.
“I won’t,” he said. “I’m right here.”
“I mean—” I gestured vaguely. “Don’t… leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, firmer this time. “I'm not letting you out of my sight.”
That landed heavy.
He turned his back politely. “I’ll give you privacy. Tell me when you’re in.”
I stared at his broad back, the tension in his shoulders visible. For a second, I just sat there, breathing, grounding myself in the warmth of the room.
Then I started to undress.
Slowly. Carefully.
Every movement pulled at sore muscles. I hissed under my breath when my shirt brushed a bruise along my ribs. Kier stiffened slightly but didn’t turn.
“You okay?” he asked, voice deliberately neutral.
“Define okay.”
A pause. Then, softly, “Take your time.”
I slid into the tub inch by inch, gasping as the hot water wrapped around me. Pain flared then eased. My shoulders loosened. My chest expanded like I’d been holding my breath for days.
“I’m in,” I said.
“Good,” he replied. “Water okay?”
“Perfect.”
He stayed where he was, back still turned, arms folded loosely across his chest.
The silence stretched thick and charged.
To break it, he spoke. “You know what the pack used to miss the most when you left?”
I blinked. “What?”
“Your cooking,” he said. “Specifically, that terrible chili you insisted was ‘experimental.’”
I laughed despite myself. “It was not terrible.”
“It was aggressive,” he said. “Half the pack thought it was a challenge.”
“And yet you ate it.”
“I was young and foolish.”
I smiled, sinking deeper into the water. “What else?”
“The way you used to sit on the roof of the south lodge,” he said, voice softer now. “You’d stay up there for hours. Even when it was freezing.”
“I liked the quiet.”
“You liked pretending you were alone,” he corrected. “Even when you weren’t.”
I swallowed. “What did you miss?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Finally, he said, “You.” Then he turned toward me.
And I didn’t miss the way the air changed.
His gaze locked on me, dark and heated, the Alpha in him unmistakable. Steam clung to my skin, water beading along my collarbone, my arms resting on the edge of the tub.
For a moment, he didn’t speak.
Neither did I.
Then he cleared his throat and looked away, jaw tight. “I’ll… grab you a towel. And some clean clothes.”
“Kier.”
He stopped.
“You can look,” I said quietly. “I don’t… I don’t mind.”
He looked back at me then, really looked, and the intensity in his eyes made my stomach flip.
“I mind,” he said hoarsely. “Because if I don’t, I won’t stop.”
Heat pooled low in my belly. Confusion tangled with it.
“Oh,” I said.
He exhaled slowly. "You need to heal," he said. "We have time to let whatever happens between us happen."
That should’ve comforted me.
It did and it didn’t.