Chapter 22 Bath Time
Bath Time
Skyla
There’s a rush of movement as empty plates are stacked and dishes are cleared. I stand, all blood draining from my face as I walk beside Knox out of the kitchen and down the narrow hallway, with Dakota trailing behind us.
Dakota showed me the bathroom earlier, but it’s like every detail has already fallen out of my head.
The second we step inside, I give the space another sweeping look.
The tiny room is just as lived-in as the rest of the house.
There are two sinks, an old clawfoot tub with a shower curtain that’s seen better days, and the tile is a robin’s egg blue.
Honestly, it’s kind of cozy, but there’s no way more than three people could be in here at a time.
“How hot do you want it?” Dakota sits on the edge of the tub and turns on the water. He smells so soft, like lilac and cotton.
“I guess hot.” I bite my bottom lip, feeling very weird. While we had attendants at the academy that helped the omegas clean us up during our heats, I’ve never had someone wash me before. It feels…intimate.
“Strip down, little one.” Knox steps closer, his presence completely filling the small room, and I’m suddenly very aware of every inch of my own body. My hoodie is heavy on my shoulders, and my pants are itchy around my waist.
And the thought of stripping down in front of the two is terrifying. I know how ridiculous that is—especially since Knox saw every inch of me last night, then Dakota saw me this morning, but I can’t help it.
“I’ll help,” Knox says when I don’t move. “Arms up,” he commands in a calm, soft tone, but the alpha in him makes my pulse spike.
My hands shoot straight up, allowing Knox to tug the hoodie up and hand it to Dakota.
Next, he removes my shirt, exposing my upper half.
My skin prickles as an intense sense of vulnerability settles over me.
But then I notice Dakota’s face. His eyes are fixed firmly on mine.
He isn’t looking at any other part of my body, not even when Knox pulls my pants down, leaving me completely bare.
And I suddenly realize that I like this beta.
Dakota’s kindness is so careful and deliberate. I still don’t trust all the alphas in the pack—their kind can shift into something dangerous in a heartbeat—but Dakota…he seems safe.
“What’s this?” Knox’s voice drops, suddenly worried.
“What?” I look up at the alpha, but he’s too busy staring at the side of my neck. At my mark. My stomach tightens, and I drop my gaze, immediately ashamed.
“Skyla,” Knox whispers my name as he brushes the hair off my neck to better see it. “This looks awful.” His voice is strained, like he’s never seen something so horrific in all his life. “What happened?”
“Oh, I…uh…” Dakota stammers, his eyes flickering to mine, then back to Knox. “I forgot to tell you about that. I meant to—”
“You knew about this?” Knox’s head snaps toward Dakota, dark and unyielding. He’s not yelling or lashing out, but the way he looks at the beta makes me curl inward, small and guilty.
I hate that I’m naked right now.
“Yeah.” Dakota grimaces. While he does look sorry, he doesn’t seem to be scared.
Maybe he knows that Knox won’t hit him in front of me? Some pack alphas like to punish their packmates in private…I assume.
“Dakota.” Knox draws in a slow breath, his voice steady but edged with command. “Things like this are important for me to know.”
“I know.” Dakota’s head drops, gaze fixed on his feet. “I’m sorry. I meant to tell you. I just—” he exhales, frustrated with himself. “I didn’t.”
Knox’s hand moves, tilting Dakota’s chin back up. Knox’s dark eyes soften as he studies the beta. “It’s okay,” Knox says, voice gentler now. A small smile ghosts across his mouth as his palm cups Dakota’s cheek. “It’s been a hell of a few days.”
Relief flickers in Dakota’s eyes, his shoulders loosening as he nods.
“Come on.” Knox curls his big hand around my wrist, guiding me toward the tub. “I need to clean this.”
I don’t want him to clean anything. Or Dakota.
I’m twenty-two years old, and perfectly capable of washing myself. But I don’t know how to tell them that without sounding ungrateful or rude.
“Careful,” Knox tells me as I lift one leg, then step into the tub.
The moment my foot breaks the surface, heat rushes up my legs and goosebumps flash across my sides. I sink down slowly, the hot water hugging every inch of me, making the knot in my chest ease.
The second my butt touches the bottom of the tub, Dakota dips a shower puff into the water before bringing it to my arm.
His touch is feather light, so cautious it’s almost tentative, dragging suds over my skin in tiny arcs.
He works down my arm, then to my knees, like he’s afraid that if he presses too hard, I’ll break.
It’s so sweet, it makes my throat ache.
Knox grabs something out of the cabinet under the sink, then falls to his knees right next to me.
Leaning across Dakota, he turns off the water before turning his attention to my neck.
His touch is firmer than Dakota’s, but still careful.
He works quietly, every motion deliberate—cleaning, patting, dabbing—but I can smell the anger radiating off him.
Smoky cherry, too acidic, mixed with something sharper.
It makes my stomach turn and my pulse spike.
Is he mad at me?
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to focus on Dakota’s calm eyes, on the way his fingers move slowly over my shins, while Knox handles my neck.
It’s all so much. I’m dizzy with a dangerous mixture of overlapping emotions. Fear. Shame. Sadness. Exhaustion. And something that feels like…affection? I don’t know if that’s it, but I’m definitely thankful for these men right now. They’re being very kind.
And for some reason, that causes tension to coil in my chest, making my throat tighten and my head ache.
Why do I want to cry?
“Are you okay?” Knox stops what he’s doing, staring intensely at my face. “Am I hurting you?”
“I—I’m okay.” I swallow thickly, trying to keep my emotions in check.
Relief flashes in Knox’s eyes, but it doesn’t last as his attention drifts back to my neck. His brows knit again, his jaw tight. He looks like a man carrying the weight of a decision.
“Enough of this,” he says to the washcloth. “It’ll probably hurt less if I clean it properly.”
Properly? My chest pinches. I don’t know what that means.
But before I can ask, Knox tosses his washcloth into the sink with a sharp flick. He rises up on his knee, so close to the tub his thigh brushes the porcelain. His big hand slides under my chin, tilting my head until my throat is bared to him. The ragged wound pulses at the angle, making me frown.
Then his mouth covers it.
A gasp breaks from me, my nails digging into the rim of the tub. “Knox—no, you don’t have to do that.” Panic and shame shoot through me like lightning. “I know how disgusting it is for alphas to touch a mark that—”
Knox growls low, the sound vibrating against my skin, silencing me. “You belong to me. To us. Every fucking inch of you, omega. Including this mark.” His tongue drags hot over the ruined bite before his lips seal around it, pulling hard.
It burns. Hot.
My whole body convulses, a helpless whimper tearing out of my throat.
“Hey, hey, I’ve got you.” Dakota’s voice steadies me as his hand finds mine under the water, fingers squeezing firm. “Almost over, sweetheart. Just breathe.”
The sting sharpens until I think I might scream, and then it breaks.
The fire starts to ebb, drawn out of me with each pull of Knox’s mouth.
A tremor of relief ripples through my body, loosening the knot at the base of my skull, melting the locked muscles in my neck.
Even the deep, gnawing ache in my joints—something I hadn’t realized was there until now—fades with each lap of his tongue.
My breathing stutters then evens out.
I’m floating, loose and heavy, while Dakota keeps me anchored. He presses the puff to my skin again, only now his touch is firmer, confident. He massages down my shoulders, kneading the soreness from my muscles before sliding over my arms, between my breast, and down to my thighs.
“That’s it,” Dakota murmurs, voice thick with warmth. “Such a good omega.”
“Does it feel better?” Knox rumbles, as he kisses my sensitive skin.
“Yes,” I mumble, every inch of me limp like jelly.
I see Dakota glance at Knox, then smile like they’re sharing a look. But I don’t care what they do, as long as they don’t stop. And Knox doesn’t.
His mouth keeps pulling at my mark, slow and relentless, each drag of his tongue easing the burn, until relief coils through me so hard it makes me dizzy. His breath is hot against my throat, his teeth grazing the edge of the wound, and then his hands start to move.
One slides down the length of my back, steady, grounding, while the other drifts away from my neck.
His fingertips slip over my collarbone, down, down, down until his palm settles heavy and warm over my breast. I can’t hold back the small moan that spills from me.
My nipples pebble under the water, aching for more.
Sensing what I want, Knox’s thumb rolls over the peak before he insistently plucks at it. My breath tears from me in a gasp, my head tipping all the way back to give him more room to consume me.
Dakota keeps moving the puff over my skin, but I feel the change in him. The puff drifts higher on my thighs, skimming places that make me twitch. But his eyes aren’t on my legs anymore—they’re locked on Knox’s hands. On the way, the pack alpha is touching me.
It’s like he’s caught in a current he can’t fight.
Slowly, Knox’s lips peel from my throat just enough to whisper against my ear, voice husky and low. “Spread your legs, omega. Let our beta take care of you.”
Heat flashes between my thighs so fast it’s almost humiliating in its intensity. My legs tremble as I part my knees under the water.