Page 59 of Magic's Rise

Since Levi’s broken hand healed before we even reached Silver Hollow, I’m surprised they have one. Maybe they have non-werewolf guests, too.

Knowing Haut will want to check the rest of me for injuries, I pull off my sweater, jostling my head in the process.

“Ouch,” I mutter, struggling with my collar.

It wasn’t a lie when I said my face still hurt, and now that the adrenaline from the fight is wearing off, the bumps and bruises are making themselves known.

“Here, let me help.” Haut frees me from the soft knit and sets my sweater on the counter by my hip.

As he warms up the water and runs a washcloth under the faucet, his gaze flickers over my bare arms and throat, assessing for damage.

“It’s not that bad,” I assure him. “It would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t been carrying me.”

“You need to learn Aspen’s night vision spell.” He dabs at the dirt on my face with the warm, damp cloth. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three? No, wait—two.” I squint to focus on his upraised hand. “Definitely two.”

“Right.” Haut frowns, unimpressed by my counting abilities. “Are you dizzy or nauseous?”

“A little,” I admit.

His frown deepens. “What are the names of your mates?”

I snort at the pop quiz. “Are you trying to gauge how scrambled my brain is?”

He leans down, close enough for the tips of our noses to bump. “Answer the question, bad puppy.”

“Fine.” I huff a breath into his face. “Greyson Haut, Owen Hartford, Ambros Shultz, and Tris.”

“Perfect.” He straightens and lifts my hands one at a time, cleaning them off gently, as if afraid I might break. “Now, let’s check you for other injuries.”

“Do we have to?” I whine, well aware he won’t be swayed. “I promise I’m not hiding any broken bones.”

“The lump on your head is the size of a golf ball.” He cleans under my nails, wiping away all traces of dirt. “Humor me.”

“Fine.” I roll my eyes, which hurts, but I’ll never tell him that.

Haut runs his hands along my arms and legs, searching for any hidden wounds, the warmth from his body sinking into me, better than any hot compress.

“See?” I say when he pulls my leggings back down after inspecting my knees. “Told you I was fine.”

“You’re a walking accident waiting to happen.” He rises back to his feet and rests his head on my shoulder, his breath shaky against my throat. “It scared the hell out of me when we crashed, and you were unconscious for those few minutes. Then in the woods, running from that thing… I wanted to leave everyone else behind to make sure you’d be safe.”

Emotion thickens his voice. “But I knew that would piss you off.”

I lace my fingers through his thick hair. “Damn straight it would have.”

His arms come around me. “I don’t like it when you leave Hartford Cove. Even when I’m with you, you still get hurt.”

I rub behind his ears, trying to soothe him. “You still protected me.”

He lifts his head, and a hint of the feral wolf fills his eyes from the time when I left him.

“Rowe, I can’t—” he starts, but I cut him off with a kiss.

“Shh,” I whisper against his lips. “I’m okay, Haut. Really.”

Our eyes lock as he leans in, pressing his mouth harder over mine, something more primal and urgent darkening his features. His hands find my waist, pulling me to the edge of the counter, his hips fitting between my thighs.

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