7. Wraith #2
The water runs cold just as we finish rinsing the soap and shampoo from Ivy.
She lets out a yelping laugh, grabbing blindly in the dark for the knobs as freezing water pelts us.
I reach for it and turn it off, immediately relieved by the clear evidence she hasn't been able to see my face this entire time.
And stressed.
Stressed, because that means I don't know if she's going to regret it when the lights come back on.
"Fuck," Thane mutters, stumbling out of the shower and fumbling in the darkness. His hand connects with the towel rack and slides down it, sending towels cascading to the floor with muffled thumps. "Where's the fucking light?"
The warning growl rips out of me before I can stop it.
"Okay, okay," Thane says quickly. "Dark's fine. Dark is good. Dark is great. I'll just... navigate by sound. Like a fucking bat."
He's stumbling around, muttering under his breath about stubbed toes and why the fuck does my bathroom have so many sharp corners.
I grab a towel from the top of the pile where Thane knocked them all onto the floor and hand it to Ivy.
"Thanks," she says softly
My jaw muscles twitch like I'd smile if I could. There's a phantom ache through tissue that isn't there anymore, ghost lips pulling at ghost cheeks.
My brain still remembers how to smile even if my face can't.
I try not to think about it before I puke and grab another towel, pressing it into Thane's groping hand before he gropes me.
"Thanks, brother," he says, relief clear in his voice. "You can see in this shit?"
I grunt an affirmative.
"Of course you can," he mutters, with fondness, for some reason.
Ivy starts drying herself off, and I watch the towel move over her skin in the darkness.
So beautiful.
So perfect.
How the fuck did I convince this incredible creature to be with me?
She turns to me, her towel in hand.
"Your turn," she says, and there's something in her voice that sounds almost amused. Not like she thinks it's funny. I don't think. More like my constant panic is endearing instead of pathetic.
The towel touches my chest first. Soft fabric against scarred skin, soaking up the water in gentle pats. She hums like drying off a massive feral alpha with a monster face is just... normal.
When she reaches my shoulders, she has to stand on her tiptoes. Even then, she can barely reach.
I manage a soft huff.
"Are you laughing at me?" she asks, grinning again.
I am.
Can't help it.
The image of what this must look like, her trying so hard to reach my head while I'm hunched over like some kind of gargoyle, is... actually kind of funny.
"Wraith," Thane says. "You have to bend down for her, brother. She's gonna pull her back out trying to reach."
I huff again, but I lower myself until I'm at a more manageable height for her.
"Thanks. Much better," Ivy says, returning to her task. The towel moves over my arms, my back, then—
She pauses.
Her hand rests on my face through the towel. Right where the muscle and bone are exposed. Where my cheek used to be.
Her pulse kicks up slightly.
I hear it.
My own cold fear slams back instantly.
"You okay?" she asks gently.
I manage a jerky nod.
Somehow, I don't pull away.
And her touch stays gentle, even though she's biting her lower lip and I can tell she's thinking about what she's touching.
I just can't tell if it's bothering her.
I don't think it is, even as she dabs at my ruined face and my hair. She's nervous, but maybe not bothered.
There's a difference.
"There," she says softly.
The tension doesn't leave my body. Can't. But something about the matter-of-fact way she just touched my face like it doesn’t scare her makes the panic recede, just slightly.
"You're up," she says to Thane, turning to him next.
"I'm good," Thane says. "Already dried off."
"Your hair is way too long for you to have dried off." She moves toward him, holding up the towel. "Come here."
"Ivy, I don’t need to be dried off like a dog—"
"Thane."
The captain of our team—the alpha who commands respect from everyone, who takes himself way too fucking seriously, who makes alphas flinch and submit with just his tone—caves immediately.
"Okay," he sighs.
She starts toweling him off. I hear his soft sounds of reluctant contentment as she works, nearly purring, then laughing and pushing playfully at her when she aggressively dries off his shaggy wet hair.
They're bonding.
My scent match and my brother.
This is right.
This is how it should be.
Even if I still can't believe it's real.
"Okay," Ivy announces, wrapping her hair up in the towel. "Now, um, can we please get out of this tiny bathroom before I develop claustrophobia? I love a good den, but… yeah."
"Good idea," Thane agrees immediately. "I can see fuck-all in here."
He fumbles for the door, and I move to help him. Dim light from the loft spills in when I open the door and I turn my face away automatically even though Ivy's already seen too much. Even though the mask that's supposed to cover me is soaking wet and useless around my neck.
They move out first. Ivy, then Thane. I follow, keeping my head down, one hand hovering near my face like maybe I can hide some of it behind my palm. My mask is too soaked to pull it off.
"Wraith," Ivy says, and I glance up despite myself.
She's sitting on the edge of my bed, swinging her feet, gloriously naked, hair dripping onto her shoulders. Those ocean eyes find mine, and there's no fear there.
"Come here," she says, patting the mattress beside her.
My feet move before my brain can catch up. Autopilot. Following her voice like it's the only thing that matters.
The bed dips under my weight as I sit and she tumbles toward me. She immediately climbs into my lap, straddling my thighs, looking up at me through her wet hair.
"Hi," she whispers.
I manage a small, wary wave.
She waves back, grinning, and then presses both our palms together, threading her slender fingers through mine.
She can see me.
The thought slams into my chest again. The loft is mostly dark, but it's lit enough I know she can make out every freakish detail of my face.
My entire body locks up and I start pulling back.
"Hey," she says softly, and her hands come up to frame my face. I flinch and screw my eyes shut as her thumbs stroke along what's left of my face, following the ridges of exposed muscle and scarred flesh.
She leans closer.
Fuck, no, don't—
Her lips press against my teeth.
Not my mouth.
I don't have one anymore, not really. Not a fucking normal mouth. Just this permanent ravaged grin of sharp points and exposed gums.
But she kisses me anyway.
The world stops.
Can't process this.
I last three seconds before I break. I drop my forehead against her shoulder with a broken growl, burying my face in her hair, breathing in her scent and shuddering in her arms as she wraps herself around me.
I can't do this.
Can't sit still while she presses her soft lips to… that.
"Wraith," Thane's voice cuts through the moment, rough but gentle. "You still with us?"
I manage a tense nod against Ivy's shoulder.
"Good," he says, and I feel the bed dip as he settles beside us. "Thought you took off on us again. Mentally, I mean."
Ivy lifts a hand to stroke my head, carding her fingers through my damp hair. "Come on," she murmurs. "Let's get in the nest. I'm fucking freezing."
The nest.
Right.
The one she built while she was in heat, the blankets and pillows arranged with omega instincts that can turn any space into a sanctuary.
She pulls me toward it, and I follow because I can't not follow. She immediately positions herself against my side, fitting her body against mine. She nestles against my chest, pressing her ear over my heart, and her arm drapes across my scarred abdomen.
"Thane," she calls, into my sternum. "Get in here."
"You sure?" he asks, hovering at the edge of the nest. "You don't really know me that well—"
"You just fucked me in the shower. I'm sure," she says flatly.
I watch Thane settle in fully on her other side, stretching out and draping an arm across Ivy's waist, his forearm brushing mine.
Ivy starts purring again, making the whole nest vibrate. It settles into my bones, into my marrow, and I close my eyes in spite of the terror still lingering in my veins.
I'm painfully aware my face is still exposed.
From this angle, Ivy can't see me unless she tilts her head back and looks on purpose, and she's keeping her head down. But I don’t think it’s for her own sake. I think it might be for mine.
Can't believe I'm not sure.
The edge of one of the blankets is so close.
I could pull it up.
But I'd have to move.
And Ivy's arms are around me, and Thane is on her other side, sandwiching her between our warm bodies as she burrows happily into the nest between us, and suddenly I find myself surrounded by warmth and scent and pack.
Pack.
The word surfaces through the chaos in my head, and for once, it doesn't feel like a lie.