Page 63 of In Her Own Rite

“There,” I say, resting my hands low on her shoulders and digging my thumbs into the muscles just under her shoulder blades. I hear a low breath escape her mouth as I ease the muscle, and I can feel her relax a little.

“Good?” I ask quietly.

“Yeah.”

“How’s this?” I move my hands up, rubbing the tendons connecting her shoulders to her neck. She rolls her head forward, responding to my touch. I feel the energy in the room shift, and I force myself to focus. She reallydoesneed to get some recovery before she hurts herself. I’m not gonna let my dick get in the way of her best interest.

I move my hands down to her mid back, massaging the muscle. A few minutes later, I can feel her body starting to give way, her posture becoming soft and pliable.

“Your legs are sore,” I say finally. “Let me help you.”

I can sense momentary resistance, but her body needs this, and that wins out.

“What do I need to do?” she asks.

“I want you on your stomach.”

I climb off the couch and she lies down flat, her arms coming up so she can rest her face sideways on her hands. I take a look at her legs, long and lean. There’s a large bruise forming on the side of one of her thighs, and now that she’s spread out for me like this, I see the hint of another on her right calf.

“One sec,” I say, standing up and walking towards the pantry.

“What are you getting?”

“Grapeseed oil.”

I come back a minute later with a blend that Saga made for me last year, which I’d brought to the north island during Fire Week but forgot to bring back. I come to kneel next to the couch and use the dropper to put some into my hands, then bring them up to her legs.

She groans in discomfort as I put my hands on her left leg and guide them gently down, digging my thumbs into the sore muscle. I ease up on the pressure a little and move my hands out to the sides, and her breath hitches. I breathe out, loudly enough for her to hear; a nudge. She exhales too, and slowly her breathing syncs with mine.In, out.

I massage up and down the back of her thigh until I feel the muscle loosen in my hands, becoming less hard and resistant, more open to me. I bring my hands down to her calf and she hisses in discomfort. I breathe in and out for her again, an instruction, and she syncs her breathing to mine as I gently force the muscle to relax and release.

After a few minutes, her whole body eases. As I make my way to the other leg, the sounds she’s making grow less tense, less frustrated. Slowly I feel her body relax for me,fromme. Under my hands.

I want it to mean more than it does. I want to bring my hands back up, to her thighs, to her ass, which I know is sore too. I want to give her more relief. The wolf in me wants to reward her, to make her feel good, to show her how proud I am of her for pushing through and not giving up.

But I hold off. She doesn’t want me like that right now, and if I look at it from her side, I can’t blame her. Even if I also think she’s being an idiot for putting herself in this position.

I won’t help her kill herself, but maybe this is a way to take care of her, still. To help her, even. Even if she doesn’t want me.

I take my hands from her body and rub the extra oil into the backs of my hands.

“No running tonight,” I say. “You should be running three days a week right now, max. And the salts for this stage of training are more effective if you combine them with food. Bring the samphire salt down from your room and I’ll make sure it’s in your breakfast tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she says, sitting up and pulling her knees towards her. With satisfaction, my inner wolf recognizes that there’s no wince this time.I did that.

“Thanks,” she says quietly.

“Yeah. No problem,” I say, and I get up and leave to take my first cold shower in days.

24

EMERSON

Three weeks.

It’s what I think to myself every morning as I stretch, prepare my training salts, have breakfast.

Three weeks, as I do my warm-up, as I learn whatever new thing Seb has for me, as I practice with Maren or Quinn and feel my inner wolf panic the second a punch lands.

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