Page 24 of Mated Exile

"I hadn't thought about it." He takes in a deep, shaky breath. "I don't even know what it looks like."

"Oh." Picking up his hand, which is warm and calloused in mine, I tug him towards the bathroom and push him in to face the mirror. "It's not actually that bad. Tangled and dirty, but pretty shiny underneath it all. And it kind of... suits you."

Bastian stares at himself with wide, hollow eyes. He leans forward over the bathroom counter, his gaze dragging up and down his body, which is covered in scars over the warm brown skin. Shuddering, he brings a finger up to his mouth and gently touches the scar there, then the one across his cheeks, and finally his eyebrow.

"I'd seen a little of it, here and there, but... not like this." Turning towards me, he asks in a rough voice, "Could I have some time in here alone? To clean up, and..."

"Oh! Of course." Backing away, I hold up my hands, feeling like I've just intruded on him. "There's soap and shampoo and stuff. And towels on that rack in the corner. Use whatever you need."

"Thank you." He gives me a lopsided smile. "I don't think I've had a hot shower in... well. Between the wolf and everything before it, it's been a while." Bastian winces. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you that. I've probably been wafting my stink in your direction this whole time."

"You don't stink."

"That's a nice lie." He gives me a soft smile as he grabs the doorknob. "I won't take long. Really."

As the door closes, I murmur, "Really. You don't stink."

Shaking that off, I pace my old bedroom, flip open my suitcase in the corner, and grab my own hairbrush from inside. It's easy enough to get the tangles out of my hair, which needs another layer of deep maroon in it. Dragging my fingers across my scalp, I flip my head over and put my hair in a ponytail.

The sound of running water greets me. Glancing at the bathroom, I wonder how Bastian is faring. No doubt after years without a proper hot shower he's stepping into the spray with gratitude. I can only imagine how many layers of the past he's scrubbing off his skin, those broad calloused hands moving across his body—I jerk the thought away before it can go further. Grabbing a change of clothes, I strip off, pull on a comfortable set of sweats, and take a deep breath.

It's now or never.

Time to find out what Niall has to tell me.

As I rejoin the others, he's sitting at the dining room table, a mug of coffee in one hand. Cat comes to me with a large plate covered in lasagna and shoves it in my hands. I've got a forkful of carbs, meat, and sauce headed to my mouth before I've even sat down, my stomach reflexively grumbling.

Vampires aren't very good at feeding their prisoners. Between that, the multiple doses of paralytic agent, and running for hours, I'm famished. Bastian must be too—when I got the chance to ask him, all he had to say about what they fed him was, "whatever food is around when they kidnap human victims. And, well," his cheeks heated, "sometimes whatever the wolf fought. A few times they put actual goats down there with me. I think it amused them."

So I'm very, very glad not to have stayed with the vampires long enough to sample their hospitality. Cat also hands me a large glass of lemonade and my own mug of coffee. I take both in grateful hands and settle in at the table.

Once I've had several big bites, drunk half the lemonade, and sipped my coffee, I take a look around. Kieran is still puttering around in the kitchen, seemingly out of nerves more than anything. Finn is grumbling in the living room as Roarke methodically checks over his leg and snaps at him anytime he tries to pull away. Lance comes down the stairs with a spare set of clothes, and I motion towards the back hallway.

"Bastian is taking a shower," I tell him. "You can leave them on my bed."

Lance gives me a weighted look. "And he's with you because?"

"I told you, he saved my life. We were both captives." I sneak in a bite of lasagna between sentences. "Someone had to get him out of there."

"Surely he has his own pack," Niall says. "His own home. People out there looking for him."

I scowl in his direction. "I hadn't asked, but it doesn't seem polite to just kick him out after everything. Besides, he's been gone... a while. His pack will have given up by now."

Niall frowns. "How long?"

"A while," I tell him. "Ten years, by my estimate."

He takes in a sharp breath.

"So yeah, he's taking a shower in my bathroom." I look up at Lance. "Is that a problem? Are you going to get weird about it? Because he'll be sleeping here tonight, and you werewolf males will have to deal."

Lance shoots me an amused look. "I'm not territorial, Lilah, just worried about your safety. If you trust him, I trust him."

I relax a little, my shoulders coming down from around my ears. "I do. I think. At least, from what I've seen so far."

"Got it. I'll put these in your room, then, for him to change into."

After Lance has done that, Roarke finished up with Finn, and helps him hobble into the dining room as well. He puts his weight on the leg gingerly, but it looks better than it did before. Roarke sets him down in the chair next to Niall and levels a blue-eyed gaze at me.

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