Chapter 82
Chapter 81 She Dressed His Wounds
Lucien’s head sagged heavily against my injured right shoulder, his entire weight pressing down like a sack
of bricks.
“Hang in there, Lucien! Almost home!” Gritting her teeth, I half-dragged the towering human sandbag
toward the door.
The short sidewalk along the condo townhouses felt like a marathon; my back was already slick with
sweat.
Finally, with a click, the door yielded.
With one last heave, I dumped Lucien’s deadweight onto the couch.
“You, my friend, need to go on a diet. Pretty sure you tore open a stitch on my arm!” Rubbing my screaming shoulder, I barely caught my breath when the couch emitted a pained grunt.
“My medication p>
I suddenly remembered the hospital pills and tore into the bedroom, rummaging through drawers.
“Lucien! Stay with me! Take this!” I barreled back with pills and water.
His bleary eyes struggled to focus. “Medicine p>
“Yes! Doctor’s orders, they work great!” I shoved a tablet at him. “We got hurt together, so they’ll help you
too. C’mon, take it p>
He obeyed, but my shaky hands tilted the cup too far. Water spilled down his chin, soaking his shirt.
“Oh goddess. I’m sorry, Lucien!” I gasped, snatching tissues to blot the spill.
My fingers slipped, applying too much pressure right on his wound. Lucien hissed in pain through clenched teeth, a grimace twisting his features.
“I-I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you p>
“Here,” Lucien ground out between clenched teeth, his brow furrowed as he weakly gestured to his chest.
“Hurts, here p>
“Stay still. I need to examine this p>
Snapping into action, I carefully undid the buttons of his dress shirt with trembling fingers.
As the fabric fell open, my breath caught.
A savage tear ripped across his abdomen where the bear’s teeth had torn into flesh. The edges bulged
with angry inflammation, and thick blood seeped from weeping tissue.
The sickening sight sent bile rising in my throat.
1/4
+25 Points “Goddess, Lucien!” My voice shook. “Why didn’t you get proper treatment? This isn’t some scraped knee, it’s a damn bear bite! That bear has silver-dipped claws, it must have a sliver of it in your blood system, and this is why you wolf can’t fully heal you p> My words tumbled out in a frantic torrent as I rummaged for antiseptic. “You’re still as stubborn as when we were kids! What were you thinking, just wrapping it up and ignoring it p> Working quickly, I swabbed disinfectant around the wound. Each swipe revealed more damage. A tiny flake of silver caught the light in just the right way after I cleared away the pus and blood. I ran to the bathroom and retrieved my precision tweezers. Usually, these were great for my eyebrows, but now they had a much higher calling. My focus on the silver flake was unshakeable. My face was inches from the wound. With steady hands, I managed to clamp onto the silver partially embedded in the open, festering wound. Then I saw another. Then another. Goddess! Why did he have to be so damn stubborn? After an hour of searching, I managed to remove seven pieces of silver from the open wound on his stomach. When the area was clean and I was confident that I got them all, I smoothed on antibiotic ointment, the cool gel drawing a relieved sigh from Lucien. Levering himself up on one elbow, he watched me with pain and exhaustion. Tendrils of hair escaped my updo, curling damply as I leaned closer. My lips pressed in concentration. That very expression I’d worn at eight years old, insisting on bandaging his scraped knees despite him being older. I knew this was a vulnerable moment for Lucien; our past would haunt him in this moment, as I was always the one to treat his wounds. Suddenly, his fingers darted up, hooking under my chin and forcing our eyes to meet. “Lucien, stop messing around!” I protested, completely focused on his injury. “I’m almost done. Now, behave and let me finish p> “You sure about this?” He glanced down at the angry gash trailing toward his waistband. “Obviously! This needs proper care, too.” I swatted his hand away impatiently. “You’re acting like a child. Do you want the infection to heal or not p> 2/4 < Chapter 81 She Dressed His Wounds +25 Points Before he could react, my fingers flew to his belt buckle, yanking his pants down in one swift motion. Only to find out that Lucien was going commando underneath his pants. There was no pair of boxers covering his semi-erect member. I jerked back like I had been burned, my face erupting into flames of embarrassment. “I-that wasn’t, I mean,” I fumbled for words, “Just- uhh, Lucien, put your clothes back on right now p> “Little late to be shy now. After all, I’m the injured victim who had to fight off the p t night nurse eager for some of my p> My hand flew up and covered his mouth before he could finish. “I didn’t mean to!” The blush burned down to my collarbones. “I was only treating your wound p> “If you say so, but I am pretty sure I saw you lick your lips and say something like ‘me hungry, nom nom nom’.” Lucien tapped his chin as though in deep pondering. “Or is that the fever talking? hmmm p> I was burning up with humiliation over what I had just done, and his sudden sense of humour wasn’t helping the situation. I frantically chucked the ointment onto the coffee table. “You, handle the rest! I most definitely did not lick my lips and say nom nom nom. Lucien, this isn’t funny p> Just then, the smile left Lucien’s smug face, and he launched himself up. “Now, now, little bunny, there will be no half measures,” he purred. “If my night nurse doesn’t finish the task, I could get worse and die. That would be tragic, wouldn’t you agree p> His imposing frame caged me in as he snaked an arm around my neck. I waved my hands wildly. I hated that he was taking advantage of my kind nature. “Fine! But certain areas are off-limits! Got it! There will be no licking of anything, are we clear!” I sterned my expression as best as I could. “You weren’t so shy a minute ago.” His smirk deepened. “I was dressing your wounds!” My face burned crimson. “It was strictly professional, and I was just offering medical attention, nothing else p> I protested vehemently, but Lucien’s knowing smirk made every word feel like a transparent excuse. With deliberate ease, he stretched back out, arms folded behind his head, shirt hanging open shamelessly. “Come here, Claire,” his voice was a velvet command, eyes locking onto mine. “Finish what you started.” There was a mischievous flicker in his eyes. “With the medicine, I mean.” He winked as he clarified. My breath hitched. I froze, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. Right then, I would have given anything for a miracle rescue from this excruciating predicament. Perhaps the heavens heard my plea. 3/4 < Chapter $1 She Dressed His Wounds The doorbell’s insistent chime shattered the tension like glass. *25 Points Without even glancing at the peephole, I lunged at the door like a death row inmate hearing a stay of execution. The lock gave way under my frantic fingers as I yanked it open with desperate relief. Lucia Morh Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.