Page 83 of Scarred Savages
As Hudson and Axel drag the whimpering man away, Ethan turns back to me, his fingers gently tilting my face to examine the bruise forming on my temple.
“Let’s ice that face,” he says, then winces. “I think it’ll leave a bruise.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him.
“No, it’s not okay,” Ethan counters with an upset sigh. “Come with me and let me take care of you. There’s no need to pretend to be tough around me or any of us.” He grabs my arm and leads me to the medical cabin.
He sits me on the examination bed and gathers supplies. He then hands me a small cup filled with a bitter-smelling liquid.
“Drink this,” he instructs. “It’ll help with the pain and swelling.”
I down it in one gulp, grimacing at the taste. Ethan works in silence, cleaning the cuts on my face and hands. His touch is gentle, but his jaw is tight with barely suppressed anger.
After a few moments of silence, he speaks. “If anything like this happens again, ask for help. No more getting yourself hurt.”
“I wasn’t thinking,” I admit, looking down at my bloodied knuckles. “When I saw that male, I just reacted.”
“I understand, but there’s no reason to put yourself in danger when we’re around. Got it?”
“Okay,” I whisper, taken aback by how protective Ethan is. “I’m just used to taking care of myself.”
“Well, you’re ours now. We take care of you.”
Ours.
The word shouldn’t soothe me. It should scare me. But instead, it settles in my chest like something I’ve been waiting to hear my whole life.
“Wait,” I say, the adrenaline fading enough for my brain to catch up. “He said he was looking for me. Specifically. ‘Just the female I was looking for’—those were his exact words.”
Ethan’s hands still on the bandage. “What?”
“You think someone tracked me down? But why?” My voice rises slightly. “Headmistress Gray said there were buyers lined up for the flesh market. Do you think that’s it? But how would they even know I was here?”
Ethan’s jaw tightens. “I don’t know, Luna. But Hudson’s interrogating him now. We’ll get answers.”
“And if more come?”
“Then we deal with it,” Ethan says firmly, his hand squeezing mine. “You’re under our protection. No one’s taking you anywhere. Once I tend to your wounds, I’ll join the others, get answers, and teach him a lesson. No one hurts my girl and gets away with it.”
I blink, the words echoing in my head. “Your girl?”
Ethan freezes, his hands stilling on the bandage wrapping around my wrist. A flush creeps up his neck, reaching his ears. It’s the first time I’ve seen him look genuinely flustered.
“I mean—” he starts, then stops, taking a deep breath. “Yes. My girl. If you want to be.”
“I think I’d like that,” I say softly.
His smile grows as he finishes wrapping my wrist. His touch lingers, thumb brushing over my pulse point. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” he confesses. “From the moment you walked in, with that small duffel bag and looking like you might stab Damien…”
I laugh, then wince as the movement sends a throb of pain through my temple.
“Careful,” he murmurs. “That’s going to be tender for a few days.”
I lean into his touch, craving the warmth of his skin against mine. “Worth it.”
“No,” he says firmly. “It’s not worth you getting hurt. Not ever. Got it?”
I nod. “Got it.”
