Chapter 287 Wash Away the Nightmare
Finally, Leela let her hand drop to cup the side of his neck.
"Now," she whispered, her voice incredibly soft, but laced with the gentle, unyielding command of a Luna who knew exactly what her mate needed to heal. "Go get cleaned up, Fenn. Wash away the nightmare."
Fennigan let out a long, shuddering breath against the sheets. The absolute, biological need to be clean, to finally rid himself of the physical evidence of his father's blood, was beginning to violently itch at his skin.
He slowly, reluctantly lifted his head. Moving as if his limbs weighed a thousand pounds, the Alpha King pushed himself up and carefully untangled his ruined body from the heavy down comforter.
He pushed himself off the edge of the mattress, his bare feet hitting the hardwood floor. He took one heavy, exhausted step toward the master bathroom, and then another.
But halfway across the room, his combat-booted instincts violently arrested his momentum.
Fennigan froze, his broad, scarred shoulders tensing. He slowly turned his head, looking back over his shoulder at the bed. His glowing silver eyes locked onto Leela, who was watching him quietly from the pillows.
The look on his heavily bruised, blood-stained face was utterly heartbreaking. It was the deeply vulnerable, terrified expression of a man entirely consumed by trauma. He stared at her as if he genuinely wasn't sure that she was real. He looked like he was absolutely terrified that if he broke line of sight, if he stepped into that bathroom and closed the door, he would walk back out to find the bed empty and the nightmare waiting for him all over again.
Leela watched as the indestructible Alpha King stood completely frozen in the bathroom doorway. The sheer, raw vulnerability in his silver eyes was enough to break her heart all over again. He was terrified that the second he looked away, the illusion of safety would shatter and she would vanish back into the nightmare.
Despite the heavy, leaden exhaustion actively dragging at her bones, and the lingering, toxic fog of Damon's sedatives still pulsing in her veins, Leela didn't hesitate. She threw the heavy down comforter aside.
Her legs trembled violently as her bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor, but she found her balance, driven by an absolute, fierce determination to save her mate from his own mind. She crossed the room, her small hand reaching out to gently grasp his thick, mud-caked wrist.
"Let's go," she whispered softly, her eyes holding his scattered gaze.
She didn't let go of him as she led him across the threshold and into the massive, marble-lined master bathroom. Leela reached past him, turning the heavy brass handles of the shower until a thick, comforting curtain of steaming hot water began to fall.
Slowly, carefully, they stripped away the last physical remnants of the bunker. Fennigan unbuckled his ruined tactical pants, kicking them aside, while Leela let her thin, clinical hospital gown slip off her shoulders and pool onto the floor.
Taking his massive, trembling hand in hers once again, Leela gently pulled her King into the steaming shower.
The exact second the hot water hit Fennigan's broad shoulders, a heavy, dark river of freezing mountain mud, sweat, and rust-brown synthetic blood immediately began to violently swirl down the marble drain. Leela reached for a thick, soft bath sponge and generously pumped it full of body wash. She knew with absolute certainty that the sponge would have to be thrown straight into the trash the second they were done, but she didn't care.
She was bound and determined to physically and spiritually scrub the horrors of the underground from his skin.
Leela pressed the soapy sponge to his massive chest, working it gently but firmly in slow, rhythmic circles over his heavy scars. She washed the thick, dried mud from his arms. She cleaned the metallic, synthetic gore of his father's blood out from under his razor-sharp claws.
Fennigan stood completely still under her touch, his chin tucked to his chest as the steam rose around them, simply letting her take care of him.
"Look at me, Fenn," Leela murmured, rinsing the sponge and reaching up to gently wash the grime from his heavily bruised jawline.
When he finally forced his silver eyes to meet hers, Leela held his gaze with the unyielding, elemental authority of a mother and a Luna.
"None of this was your fault," she vowed, her voice echoing softly over the sound of the falling water. She pressed her wet, clean hands flat against his heart. "You didn't bring this on us. Your father was a demented devil, Fenn. He was a monster who lived in the dark, and you did exactly what you had to do to pull your family back into the light. Do you hear me? You are a good man. And you are a spectacular father."
The last remnants of the feral shadow finally, beautifully broke behind Fennigan's eyes, washing away down the drain along with the blood of the devil he had slain.
Fennigan stared down into those incredible eyes. Those beautiful, unyielding eyes that had looked up at a terrifying, massive wolf in a foggy hotel room and had simply, instinctively trusted him right from the very get-go.
The last of his walls completely, irrevocably shattered.
The indestructible Alpha King, the most lethal predator in the Blackwood Mountains, finally broke. Hot, thick tears rapidly welled in his liquid-mercury eyes, spilling over his dark lashes to mix instantly with the steaming water raining down over his bruised face. A ragged, devastated sob violently tore its way up his throat, the sheer, crushing weight of everything they had almost lost finally overflowing.
But before the sound could fully escape, a primal, absolute terror seized him again.
The dark, irrational fear whispered that her forgiveness was just a temporary illusion. His fractured mind screamed that if he gave her a single second to truly step back—if he let her take even one full, independent breath of clean air—the spell would violently break. She would finally realize the depths of the feral monster she was tied to, and she wouldn't feel the same anymore.
With a desperate, guttural sound, Fennigan didn't just step into her space; he completely devoured it.
He aggressively dragged her wet body flush against his massive, clean chest, his thick arms wrapping around her like steel bands, and pulled her into a long, brutal, earth-shattering kiss.
It wasn't gentle. It was a kiss born of pure, unadulterated survival. His mouth crashed down on hers with a bruising, desperate intensity, completely sealing off the outside world. He tasted the hot steam of the shower, the salt of his own tears, and the absolute, intoxicating sweetness of his mate. He held the back of her head, anchoring her to him as if his soul was actively trying to fuse with hers right there under the falling water.
He kissed her like a man terrified that the universe was about to rip her away again. He poured every ounce of his grief, his apologies, and his devastating, all-consuming love directly into her lungs, absolutely terrified to let her go.
But Leela didn't shrink away from the brutal, breathless intensity of her King.
Even exhausted and bruised, the Luna rose to meet the beast. She parted her lips with a soft moan, fully surrendering to the crushing weight of his mouth. Her wet arms wrapped tightly around his thick neck, pulling herself impossibly closer. She kissed him back with a fierce, elemental fire, her tongue tangling with his, actively fighting against his terror to prove that her heart wasn't going anywhere.