CHAPTER 21: HOLD YOU

Devon woke again sometime later to silence. Soft morning light, slightly brighter than before, slipped through the curtains. The fire was stoked anew, warm and steady. And Lucien’s arm... had loosened just enough that Devon was no longer caged against him.

Lucien was still asleep, head bowed slightly, hair brushed messily across his forehead. He looked calm. Human, almost. Not the fearsome Alpha everyone whispered about.

Devon’s heart thudded.

I need to get up... before he wakes.

This is quite embarrassing...

Carefully, painfully slowly, Devon lifted Lucien’s arm from around his waist, inch by inch. Every brush of contact sent sparks across his skin, but he forced himself to ignore it.

Just a little more...

He shifted his leg out of the blankets, suppressing a hiss at the ache in his joints. His feet touched the cold wooden floor. Almost free. He held his breath as he took his first silent step away from the bed.

But a hand closed around his wrist. Firm. Unmistakable. Warm.

Devon froze. He turned his head slowly... and found Lucien awake. Eyes open. Golden. Sharp. Watching him. Not groggy. Not confused. Like he’d been awake the whole time.

Why are his eyes golden?

Is his wolf taking over his body?

"Where," Lucien said quietly, "do you think you’re going?"

Devon swallowed. "I... I didn’t want to wake you. You were sleeping, and I thought..."

"You thought you could run." Lucien’s voice wasn’t accusing. Just... certain.

Devon’s breath caught. "I wasn’t running away. I just... I need fresh air. And I didn’t want to disturb you any longer."

Lucien’s grip on his wrist didn’t hurt, but it held him steady, as if Devon might disappear the moment he let go.

"You’re still injured," Lucien said, low and calm. "You shouldn’t be walking."

"I’ll be fine," Devon insisted softly. "I’ve survived worse. And I heal faster than ordinary wolves."

Lucien’s eyes darkened at that, a flash of anger, or worry, or both. He tugged gently, guiding Devon back toward the bed. But Devon resisted. Weakly, but still resisting.

"Alpha, I need to stand on my own two feet," he whispered.

"You can." The Alpha’s voice softened, almost dangerously so. "But not yet. Not like this."

Devon shook his head. "You don’t have to take care of me."

Lucien rose from the bed with a quiet, fluid motion, towering over him now, but his touch on Devon’s wrist remained gentle.

"You’re under my protection," Lucien said simply. "I take care of what’s mine."

Devon’s pulse stumbled. "I’m not..."

Lucien stepped closer.

"Not what?" he asked softly.

Devon’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. His pulse was too loud. His face was too warm. His chest was too tight.

Lucien exhaled slowly, as if reining himself in. Then he released Devon’s wrist, only to move his hand to Devon’s cheek, brushing his fingers under his jaw with disarming tenderness.

"You’re not a burden," Lucien murmured. "You’re not an inconvenience. And you’re not leaving this room until I know you can walk without collapsing."

Devon’s eyes dropped to the floor. "I don’t want to cause trouble."

"You don’t," Lucien said, with such firmness Devon almost flinched. "You never have."

Their breaths mingled. Silence stretched, slow and heavy.

Devon finally whispered, "Then at least let me wash my face."

Lucien’s lips curved, not quite a smile, but close. A softened line at the corner of his mouth.

"I’ll help you."

Devon’s head snapped up. "No!"

But before he could protest further, Lucien slid an arm behind his back, another beneath his knees, and lifted him as if he weighed nothing.

Devon’s hands flew to Lucien’s shoulders in instinctive panic. "Alpha!"

"You said you needed to wash your face," the Alpha replied calmly, carrying him across the room. "So I’ll take you."

He carried Devon toward the adjoining bathroom, his hold warm and unyielding. Embarrassed, flustered, and very, very awake, Devon buried his face in Lucien’s shoulder. And Lucien’s quiet laugh vibrated through his chest.

Lucien carried Devon straight into the bathroom, one arm steady beneath his knees, the other supporting his back as if he weighed nothing more than a blanket. The Alpha pushed the door open with his foot, steam swirling faintly from the warm water Lucien had prepared earlier.

Devon’s heart hammered wildly. "Put me down... I can walk."

"No," Lucien replied simply, setting him gently on the marble counter beside the basin. "You’ll faint the moment your knees lock."

Devon glared at him, or at least tried to, but the effect was weakened by the flush on his cheeks and the way he had to grip Lucien’s sleeve to balance himself.

Lucien leaned in, brushing Devon’s damp bangs aside. "I’ll just wipe your face. Nothing more."

"That doesn’t make this less embarrassing," Devon muttered.

Lucien dipped a cloth into warm water, wrung it out, and lifted it toward Devon’s cheek.

*Knock*

*Knock*

*Knock*

Both of them froze.

Another rapid knock followed.

"Alpha?!" Rowan’s panicked voice came muffled through the door. "Alpha, are you awake? We have a problem!"

Lucien closed his eyes very slowly, exhaling like a man praying for patience.

Devon, mortified, tried to slide off the counter, only for his legs to wobble violently. Lucien grabbed his waist on instinct.

Which was, of course, the exact moment Rowan chose to open the door.

The Beta took one step into the room.

Stopped.

And stared.

Devon was sitting half on the counter, Lucien pressed close between his legs, a warm cloth in his hand, and one of the Alpha’s arms wrapped securely around Devon’s waist to keep him from falling.

Rowan blinked.

Then blinked again.

Then made a choking sound in the back of his throat.

"I... I can come back, or never, or, actually, I’ll just..."

Lucien’s jaw flexed. "Rowan."

"Yes, Alpha?" Rowan squeaked, eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling.

"Step outside."

"Yes, immediately." Rowan backed up so fast he nearly tripped over his own boots and slammed the door shut.

The silence that followed was heavy... but not entirely unpleasant.

Devon hid his burning face in his hands. "He definitely misunderstood."

Lucien raised a brow. "Did he?"

Devon froze.

Lucien leaned in just a little, voice dropping. "We were in a compromising position."

"I wasn’t, you weren’t, I mean," Devon’s voice rose, flustered. "I just needed to wash my face!"

"And I was helping you," Lucien said, gently lifting Devon’s chin so their eyes met. "There’s nothing wrong with that."

Nothing wrong, the words sat warm and heavy between them.

Devon’s breath hitched.

But before he could respond.

*Knock*

*Knock*

*Knock*

Rowan’s voice, high and desperate, "Alpha, please! I swear this is important! I won’t look! I HAVE MY HAND OVER MY F... OVER MY EYES!"