Page 69 of The Biting Bargain

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"That's amazing,sir. Are you sure?"

I groan in annoyance. "Aidan, I'm sitting here talking to you on the phone instead of being chained up in my dungeon, frothing at the mouth as I howl at the full moon. Yes, I am sure she made me shift back. I don't know how, but those are the facts."

"Extraordinary." Aidan on the other end of the line sounds like I've shown him a new element. "Absolutely exceptional. We'll have to check into that right away, sir."

I cast a glance over my shoulder. I perch on the edge of my bed, wearing sweatpants. Polly is lying behind me, wrapped in sheets and propped up in the pillows, dozing. I carried her all the way from the security dungeon to my bedroom despite her protests. They were pretty tame protests, though. She hung in my arms like a wet pillow, pointing out that she could actually walk herself. I gave her the look this statement deserves. That she is even still conscious is a miracle in itself. I mean, I was all over her in my werewolf form, for crying out loud.

Damn, what have I done to her?

Now, she pulls my comforter a little tighter around herself and I can see the bruises, scratches and chafings all over her skin — arms, wrists, the heels of her hands — virtually burning into my retinas.

"Maybe not right away," I mutter.

"Tomorrow morning then, sir?"

"Afternoon," I say darkly, and Aidan agrees, positively beaming. I end the call, dropping my phone to my knees.

"Are you okay?" she asks now and I groan again.

"Stop asking me that."

"But are you?"

I turn and glare at her. "That’s not what you’re supposed to ask right now," I grit out.

She blinks at me with those damn green eyes of hers. "What am I supposed to ask, then?"

"Nothing," I growl, getting up and crossing the room to the en suite bathroom. Cursing under my breath, I return with the special first aid kit that is actually intended for my convalescence after full moon nights.

As things are standing, I won’t need it tonight. She does.

"What's that?"

"Come here," I growl as I lower myself to the edge of the bed and flip open the kit. "Please," I add as she frowns at me.

She complies, her body half wrapped in the white sheet, but what I can see makes the icy dagger of guilt stab even deeper into my chest. Cuts, scratches, bruises that will turn black and blue over the next few days.

Damn, she didn’t deserve any of this.

"Let me see your back," I say, unwrapping the special ointment.

"You want to fix me up?" she asks, trying to sound cheerful. Lighthearted. Like this is all a cute joke. I struggle to keep my anger in.

"Exactly," I say, strained. "Your back, dove. Now."

"Bossy," she mutters, but the sheet slides off her shoulders.

The dagger in my chest is getting worse. Her back is badly chafed. That's what happens when you get pounded by a monster on a cold, hard dungeon floor. Her knees and elbows aren't going to look any better.

Stab, stab, stab.

"This is going to feel cold," I grumble as I squeeze a bubble of the translucent ointment onto my fingers and place the tube next to me.

"What's this?" she asks, sucking in air as I gently place the ointment between her shoulder blades.

"A special blend," I murmur, spreading the salve over her scraped skin. "Aidan gets it from the same witch that did the initial counter-curse. I usually need about three tubes of this stuff every time the full moon passes."

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