Page 7 of Unforgivable

Lyri

I watch, bewildered, as the cot gets dragged in, complete with a few foul curses as Ezra and Thjis argue about how to get it through the doorway without banging up the doorframe.

"Fucking turn it upright, you jackass," Thjis snaps.

"I am, asshole," Ezra huffs back.

I watch warily as they push and pull until the bed is through the door and they can slam it (not gently) against the wall where previously there was a cocoon of blankets and a blow-up mattress. I knew that they had been getting sick of that thing. Last night Rhet was sleeping in here and became so frustrated with sinking through it to rest on the floor that his sleep was punctuated with frustrated growls. Neither of us slept well.

"Right, fuck that was annoying," Ezra sighs.

Thjis approaches me. "Time for a bath, female."

I clutch my blankets tightly. Don't get me wrong; I want a bath. I stink of medicine and blood and urine. I don't smell of males anymore, thank goodness. Someone must have washed me down, and despite everything, I blush at the thought of that sort of intimacy, especially when it was probably Thjis, a male who doesn't like me at all.

They've seen everything I have, but I still don't want to have a bath with them helping me. It just seems too intimate, too personal.

Thjis pulls at the blanket. Mutely, I shake my head and clutch the blankets tighter.

"Female," he grunts, "you need to wash."

"I'll do it by myself," I volunteer.

"You can't," he says, exasperated.

Yeah, I know I can't. I'm just stalling. Begrudgingly I relax my grip on the blankets. I can hear the tub filling in the bathroom that I've only had glimpses of. I wonder how long it's been since I was brought here, since that night.

"Alright," Ezra came back into the room with a cheerful swagger. "Bath's ready."

Thjis pulls the blanket off and I catch my breath. The sunlight streaming in through the window reveals my body in perfect definition. My skin is pale, swollen red in some places, stark white in others. Deep bruising decorates my abdomen, still swollen from fluids. A bag is taped to my side, filled with yellow liquid that I try not to look at. My hips are splinted to keep them immobile, and I'm sure the hard plastic and tape hide even more bruises.

Thjis works quickly, gently pulling out the catheter and handing the bag to Ezra, who disappears into the bathroom. The splints are next, the tape snipped with scissors and pulled away from my body.

Soft whimpers pour from my mouth. I was right; even more damage can be seen. My hips are covered in purple and green and yellow fingermarks. A glimpse of my inner thighs reveals the same angry purple bruising where male after male pressed his hips, his body, into me.

Turning, I vomit into the bowl that Ezra somehow has ready for me. "Shh, baby, don't look, OK?" Green and brown bile come up, the soup leaving my body quickly until nothing but dry heaves are left. Ezra braves it all, holding still and making shushing noises while Thjis braces my shaking body.

Thjis scoops me up; this male always the one to carry me for some reason. His jaw ticks angrily as he brings me into the bathroom. Ezra starts to remove his clothes, and I cry out, panicked. Thjis' grip tightens, "he's going to hold you, female, while I wash you. It's just a bath."

I stop moving. It hurts to fight, but I can't stop the sounds of panic emitting from my throat. Ezra steps into the bathtub and Thjis passes me over. He's still wearing underwear, thank goodness, but being naked and pressed against bare male skin is triggering every instinct to run. My wolf is scratching, clawing at the sensation. We need to escape.

Ezra sinks into the tub, the warm, fragrant water lapping over my sore body. More water is poured over my head while I gasp for precious oxygen.

"Rhet, we need you in here!" Thjis bellows out.

Rhet is there a moment later, swearing up and down. I go still, shrinking back from the dominant male. He's too dangerous for me. Dominant males don't like me. They hurt me.

"Lyri," he crouches down next to Thjis and captures my chin in his hand, "let Thjis bathe you. It will help you heal. Stop struggling."

My body goes lax at the commands. What else can I do? My she-wolf cowers, her ears laid flat against her head as she tries to make herself as small and unassuming as possible.

Thjis captures my attention when he starts to scrub my hair. I look at the hard planes of his face while I plead with him silently to take me back to the bed and leave me there. He ignores me, his face set in a deep scowl as he quickly washes me with the odd-smelling soap and water.

"Done," he announces, standing up and grabbing a big towel. He stands and takes me from the bath and swiftly into the bedroom.

"Almost done, sweetheart." Ezra races to change the sheets, whisking away the soiled ones without looking at me once. Carefully, Thjis places me down on the bed. I reach for the new blankets to pull over myself, but his hands stop me.

"I have to put the catheter back in, OK? Just one minute, then you can eat and sleep." He rips open a bag and takes out the paraphernalia that lets me pee without soiling myself or the bedding. I close my eyes, allowing him to open my thighs with big, warm, calloused hands.

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