My mother’s face flashes through my mind’s eye. She was the only one who ever dared to give me such a look before this tiny, feral kitten came clawing into my life.
I stare in frozen shock at my omega, unable to breathe through the whirlwind of emotions.
She transports me back in time. I’m home. My anger and loneliness fade away. Long buried memories resurface. Every dark and miserable night merge into one. They served their purpose. They brought me here. They brought me her.
Iris. My kitten. My mate.
She shuffles forward on her knees and unwinds the bandage from around my waist. Her tears flow thicker down her face as she reveals the gaping, oozing holes in my side.
I suck down a lungful of air before releasing it on a shaky breath as another realization strikes me. Bittersweet emotions slice my heart open, purge the festering puss, and mend me in swift succession. My head reels.
My kitten cries for my pain, not because of our bond or because she regrets stabbing me, but because she loves me. She needs me. She can’t fix me any more than she could protect her brothers.
Family. I’m her family now.
The love she holds for her brothers runs deeper than that of typical siblings. Her omega heart sees them as her own children. She needs them.
She needs me just as much, but as her alpha. Her provider. Her protector.
She’s been through so much. Her soul stretches toward mine, begging for relief, forgiveness, and love.
Without a word, she dips a sterilized cloth into the pitcher of water and cleans my side with gentle dabs.
I ache to give her everything she needs. With her resilience and silent care, she opens a well of tenderness I never knew existed within me.
I vow to give her every drop. Just as her body takes my knot and accepts my seed, I’ll ensure her heart receives the same flood of nutrients from my soul.
With my priorities realigned, I weave my fingers together behind my head, giving her full access to my side, and hold in my rumble to make her task easier. After smearing ointment over each wound, she breaks. With a hiss and curse, she throws the first aid box across the room.
“This isn’t right. You need medical attention. These won’t heal. You’re still bleeding. What if you get infected? What if—”
I pull her flush against me and dive into her mouth, desperate for a taste of her sweetness. She opens for me with such eagerness I’d fall to my knees if I were standing, but she thumps the side of her fists against my chest in frustration. I pull back just enough to meet her gaze.
“I’m serious, Aft. You need a surgeon.”
My cock turns to steel as her sensuous lips form my name. I tilt my hips and enjoy the hitch in her breath as I rub my shaft through her wet folds.
Not wet enough. She needs to hydrate.
Blood oozes down my side.
“Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll be fine.”
She snarls and hits my chest with surprising force. I chuckle and lift the cup of water off the floor.
“There’s no chance in hell I’m letting anyone near you in this state, and you’d have to drag my cold, dead body away to get me to leave you right now, so bandage me back up, Iris, so I can knot your needy pussy again.”
Her pupils dilate and her nipples pebble against my chest, but despite the flush darkening her cheeks, fatigue and emotional upset cast a pallor over her skin.
She sighs before nodding and reaching for the bandages.
I press the cup to her lips and urge her to drink half the contents before releasing her. She uses the cloth to wipe the fresh blood off my hip before winding a clean bandage around my waist.
We alternate between me regulating her water intake and her dressing my wounds. After every tightening of the bandage, I ensure she drinks a few more swallows until only a cup remains at the bottom of the pitcher.
As she pants through another cramp, I gather her into my lap and stroke her hair away from her face until she peers up at me with clear blue eyes.
I pinch a piece of bread off the plate and bring it to her lips. She scowls before reluctantly opening her mouth. I feed her from my hand until she turns her head away.