Chapter 30
Lyra's POV
Just as I stood there tensely, uncertain where to direct my gaze, Orion suddenly reached out and caught my wrist.
The warmth of his body temperature transmitted through his touch to my hand, freezing me in place instantly.
He moved gently, carefully turning back my sleeve to reveal the purple-blue bruise beneath.
His fingertips brushed lightly over the mark on my wrist, that tender touch sending a fine tremor across my skin.
"What happened here." His voice came low and hoarse, the tone carrying suppressed fury and heartache.
I stiffened under his touch, my mind going blank.
His fingers still rested on my wrist, that contact bringing a tingling sensation that made me almost forget to breathe.
After a moment, I barely managed to find my voice.
"I fell off my motorcycle," I said quietly, not daring to meet his eyes. "It just looks worse than it is. It doesn't actually hurt."
I knew the lie was clumsy, but I couldn't tell him the truth.
If he knew everything that had happened in that dungeon, I wasn't sure he could still face Kael rationally.
Orion didn't speak, but I could feel the aura around him grow even more frigid.
Just then, a light knock came at the private room door, and Darian entered carrying a small ointment box.
Orion took the ointment from Darian's hands, opened the lid, and dipped his fingertips into it.
The ointment was pale green, giving off a faint herbal fragrance.
He cradled my wrist and began gently applying the ointment to the bruise.
His movements were extraordinarily careful, his fingertips drawing small circles on my skin, as if afraid of causing me pain.
"Lyra," he said softly, his voice carrying a fragility I'd never heard before, "I want to take you away from here right now."
I watched his focused movements, watched the unconscious furrow of his brow as he applied the medicine, watched that look of distress in his eyes.
The tingling sensation from his touch spread all the way to my heart, making it race so fast it nearly burst from my chest.
I unconsciously lowered my gaze, not daring to let him see the emotions in my eyes.
But I still forced myself to calm down and explained to him in a low voice, "Orion, my investigation is close to bearing fruit. If I leave now, it will only alert Kael, and then all our arrangements will be wasted."
Orion said nothing, only continued applying the medicine.
His movements remained gentle, but I could feel the slight tremor in his fingertips.
After finishing, he helped me pull down my sleeve, covering the bruise.
I thanked him softly: "Thank you, Orion."
He raised his eyes to look at me, those deep eyes filled with complex emotions.
"Don't let yourself get hurt again," he said, his voice carrying a tone almost like pleading. "That would be the greatest thanks you could give me."
My throat suddenly constricted, my eyes uncontrollably growing hot.
This man, this supreme lord who controlled the thirteen wolf packs of the Northern Territory, who commanded respect in the business world without fear—he was now showing a side he rarely revealed to anyone, all because of a few marks on my wrist that hadn't yet faded.
Darian's POV
At that moment, standing in the corner of the private room, I could hardly believe what I was witnessing.
The tone Orion displayed, that expression, those careful movements—none of it resembled the Orion Blackwood I knew.
I had followed Orion for eight full years.
In those eight years, I'd seen him force opponents to sign surrender terms at the negotiation table, seen him silence an entire conference room with a single glance, seen him remain calm and composed in the face of the most dangerous situations.
Therefore, I knew better than anyone what kind of person Orion was—cold, ruthless, rational to the point of being like a machine that only executed predetermined programs.
But today, I was seeing such intense emotional fluctuation in him.
I suddenly understood why he had accepted the collaboration with Kael.
That partnership, which held virtually no commercial value, perhaps meant only one thing to him—it gave him a legitimate reason to come to Chicago, to see this girl.
In my shock, my fingers loosened and the ointment box slipped from my hand, falling to the floor.
The crisp sound was especially jarring in the quiet room; I could even hear the box bouncing on the floor.
Orion looked up and shot me a glance.
It took me only a tenth of a second to read all the information in that look: "Put down the medicine and get out."
I quickly bent down to retrieve the ointment from the floor, fumbling to place it on the coffee table, then turned and headed for the door.
In the instant before closing it, I saw Orion lower his head again, continuing to focus intently on applying medicine for that girl, his entire aura softening.
I pulled the door firmly shut behind me, leaned against the hallway wall, and let out a long breath, unable to help but marvel inwardly.
Was this still the Orion Blackwood I knew?
That man called the "Iron-Blooded Lord" in the Northern Territory, that supreme Alpha who struck fear into countless business rivals—he could actually act like an ordinary werewolf, carefully and tenderly applying ointment for the girl he loved.