Page 33 of Nightmare Island

“Easy,” I murmur, reaching out slowly as I would with a wounded animal. “Let me help tuck another pillow under your head.”

She eyes my hand warily. “I can manage.”

“Of course you can,” I say, letting a hint of sarcasm color my voice as she does just that. “Just like you managed that escape attempt so well.”

Her gaze flashes with anger—good, anger is better than fear.

“I got pretty far, didn’t I? And you can’t blame my wolf for going all protective after I was attacked in that basement.”

I cradle her head gently, ignoring how right it feels to touch her.

“Here’s the part where you drink this and stop arguing with me.”

She studies my mask intently.

“I won’t hurt you,” I murmur, low enough that only she can hear.

“That’s what they all say.” She tries to smirk, but it comes out more like a grimace. “Every Alpha thinks he knows what’s best.”

“Oh, honey,” Awa chimes in, wiping the blood away. “If Ghost wanted to hurt you, he wouldn’t have broken down my door to get me to help you. I’ve never seen him so worked up over anyone.”

I growl at her, but Hel’s laugh turns into a pained cough.

“Drink,” I order, pressing the bowl to her lips. “Before I change my mind about being nice.”

She parts her lips hesitantly, allowing me to tip the liquid into her mouth. The first sip makes her eyes widen.

“That’s… not terrible,” she admits, taking another swallow.

“Give it time,” Awa says cheerfully. “The herbs are an acquired taste.”

Hel drinks steadily, finishing the bowl, and I set it on the bedside table. I can feel her relaxing slightly against my hand where I support her head. The rum starts working quickly, her cheeks flushing pink, and her eyes take on a glassy sheen.

After a long pause of her resting, she stares at me strangely.

“You’re really strong,” she observes suddenly, her free hand reaching out to touch my chest. “Like, really, really strong.”

Awa snickers as she prepares her needle. “The rum milk works fast on an empty stomach.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Hel whispers, leaning closer. “But you’re naked.” Her gaze dips down my stomach, then she giggles. “Very naked.”

Something in my chest tightens at the sound of her laugh. She looks younger like this, softer somehow. Almost innocent.

“I’m wearing pants, little flame,” I remind her, trying to keep my voice stern despite my amusement.

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, unconvinced. “Very nice pants. But mostly naked.” She pokes my chest with one finger. “So many muscles.”

Awa’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. “I haven’t seen anyone react quite like this to my rum milk in ages.”

“I’m not drunk,” Hel protests, then frowns. “The room’s just… spinny. Did you know your mask glows in the dark?”

“It doesn’t,” I say, but she’s already reaching for it again.

“Pretty skull-face man,” she murmurs, her fingers tracing the contours of the mask. “With pretty muscles.”

I snatch her hand before she can pull the mask away, but I’m gentle.

“Behave.”

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