Page 20 of Ethan
He gestured at me with the attitude of a tiny grumpy old man. “This is a clinic. For hurt people. Are you hurt?”
I clenched my jaw. “Get lost, kid. I’m here to see Ethan.”
Micah crossed his arms. “You’re grumpy. And you smell like dirt.”
Before I could snap back, the little gremlin reached for the cup in my hand and took a sip.
“Hey. That’s not for you!” I leaned forward to snatch it back, but he pulled away, smirking with far too much satisfaction.
“No wonder it’s noisy in here.” The voice slid over me like silk and steel all at once. My head snapped up. There he was.
Ethan walked in from the back hallway, shirt wrinkled, dark hair pushed back with a lazy hand. His frown was aimed directly at Micah, though it didn’t lack warmth.
“Micah,” he sighed. “What did I say about drinking coffee?”
Micah shrugged, clearly unrepentant. “It’s sweet.”
“I don’t care if it tastes like candy. Your mom doesn’t let you have caffeine. You know that.”
I raised my hand. “It wasn’t for him. It was for you.”
Ethan glanced at me, brow twitching. “You brought me coffee again?”
“Yeah.” I gestured vaguely toward the rapidly vanishing latte. “Figured you’d want it.”
Micah grinned, dropped the cup on the desk, and bolted out of his seat like the little menace he was.
“That kid…” I grumbled.
Ethan’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t comment. He walked toward me, eyes sliding from my face to my hands, scanning for wounds.
His healer instincts kicked in even when he clearly didn’t see anything.
“You know only injured wolves come here,” he said, voice dry.
I grinned and held out my hand, palm up. “I got a paper cut.”
He blinked. “Seriously?”
I pointed to the faint red line along the crease of my finger. “Deadly. Could be infected. Might lose the whole hand.”
Ethan rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched again. “You’re an idiot.”
“Not denying it,” I said with a shrug.
But then he reached out and cupped my hand gently, his fingers cool against my overheated skin.
A soft pulse of warmth spread from his palm, and I felt the tingle of healing magic slide beneath my skin. It was subtle. Gentle. Like sunlight over a wound.
And it wrecked me. My wolf pressed hard against the inside of my chest, snarling low. Not in anger, but in… something else. Something needy. Possessive.
Mine, it growled, and I had to grit my teeth to keep it in.
He was focused on the cut, eyes lowered, lashes brushing against his cheek. And he was smiling. Just a little. Like he didn’t mind this at all. I’d take that over any victory in the ring.
“Better?” he asked, glancing up.
Our eyes locked. Too close and too intense.
