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It was a burning hot day in Sunscorch, the desert city where the Hunter’s Association had stationed me for the past week. Temperatures regularly climbed above 140 degrees thanks to the region’s massive, permanent metaflux fluctuations. The city had adapted to the hellish temperatures outside by being mostly underground, and travel to the surface was difficult and dangerous because of the fluctuations.
Those same distortions were responsible for spawning dangerous and unpredictable Wanderers, one of which I had been sent to investigate. If Nero had seen it, he would have called it beautiful. It had vast prismatic wings and a proud golden beak, gleaming and sharp under the merciless sun.
Defeating it wasn’t easy, but the mission was complete. I was preparing to return to Linkon City.
Mission accomplished! Linkon’s best hunter is ready to return B-) I texted Zayne.
I scrolled through our past conversations, what little there was, and felt my brows knit together. I had made an effort to stay in touch, but his replies were sparse and dry. We had been dating these past several weeks, going out to dinners when our schedules aligned, but it had been difficult to thaw his frigid nature. Every brief handhold, every chaste peck on the lips, felt like an obligation rather than desire as a man would feel for a woman. I would have given up trying to make it work if I hadn’t caught the unrestrained devotion in his gaze on me when he thought I wasn’t looking.
Zayne was perfect in every way, except for his poor communication skills. I couldn’t understand why he kept this distance between us despite our obvious feelings for one another. It made me wonder whether this relationship could last long-term.
My phone dinged and I pitifully perked up to read Zayne’s reply.
Thumbs-up emoji.
Anger burned in my eyes. I hadn’t seen him in two weeks, stuck in this hellhole of a city, chasing a Wanderer powerful enough to have bested most Hunters, and all I got in return was a thumbs-up. Normally, I would’ve let it go. But something about the relentless heat and sand in places it had no business being, pushed me to pathetically reply: Can I call you? I really miss your voice.
Instantly, his chat bubble appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared.
No, I’m busy right now.
I blinked away the tears forming in my eyes, swallowing past the painful lump in my throat. I tried typing something. Then I erased it and put my phone down on the bedside table of the hotel I’d been staying at.
It was always the same cycle: I’d invite him to open up and get immediately shut down. How was this the basis of a healthy relationship? What would it take for him to finally lower his guard around me?
Before I could really wallow in my self-pity, I felt my Evol perk. An energy fluctuation? Right now?
I whirled off the bed to fling the door open. My hunter’s watch emitted a warning, and I could see the pinprick of a protofield form at the end of the hall. The static voice on intercom of the hotel announced, “Attention patrons, warning! An energy fluctuation has been detected inside the hotel.”
“Get back to your rooms!” I yelled as curious residents peeked their heads out of the doors, running to the protofield with my gun drawn. Then, I saw a woman and a little girl right next to the growing protofield, unaware that it was behind them.
“Ma’am, get down!” I screamed as I flung my body over them. In an instant, the protofield burst, trapping us in some dark forested area. I heard the roar of the Wanderer about 10 meters away.
“Stay here, do not move from this spot,” I harshly instructed to the terrified woman and girl as I ran towards the roar.
It was another type of that Wanderer I had just killed, but instead of prismatic wings, its wings were made of lava rock. It spread them wide as it spotted me and roared, coughing up hot rock chunks to spit at me.
I ducked and dodged them with ease, shooting at the weak spots at its belly. It roared again and beat its wings to rise to the sky, spreading a terrible heat. I needed to kill it now or else we would be trapped in its protofield or burnt to a crisp. I let a ball of resonance encase the bullets in the chamber of my gun and shot holes into its wings. It screamed in agony and crashed down into the clearing of dirt, its weakest point completely bare for me to end it.
I fired my last three shots straight into its core.
But not before it shot out hundreds of thin rock shards at me. I dodged most of them, dropping to the floor. Then I felt a piercing pain in my chest before I hit the ground. I rolled over as the Wanderer dissipated into energy and we returned to the hotel hallway.
Warmth spread over my torso. I vaguely heard the cry of the girl as I touched that warmth and looked at it.
Blood.
So much blood.
My strength was rapidly fading. I felt my head fall back to the floor before hearing voices surrounding me, the overhead light of the hotel room flooding my vision.
“She’s hit. We need to plug up that wound now.” A stern female voice called. I felt hands pressing something hard on my chest.
“She’s losing a lot of blood, do we have anything in the kit?” Another voice commanded.
From the tone they were speaking, I recognized them to be doctors. And my favorite doctor wasn’t here…
Zayne.
“What is she saying?”
My Zayne. I’m so sorry, I wish…
The last image I remembered was his smiling face, the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly.
***
It was all darkness and pain. So much pain. It felt like my heart and chest had been beaten with a sledgehammer until nothing but pulp remained.
I remember whimpering, then strong, warm hands squeezing my own.
Zayne, where are you? I miss you so much.
I tried opening my eyes, but my strength faded again and the darkness overtook me once more.
***
It hurt so much. I couldn’t stand it anymore.
Please. Please just let it end.
Something soft and warm pressed against my forehead, the slightest reprieve in this hell I was enduring.
It was a small comfort left to me before I sank back again.
***
The pain in my chest was now a dull, agonizing throb rather than the piercing, unbearable stab I had been suffering.
My mouth was so, so dry. I cracked open my eyes to see bright, white light. The soft beeps of my heart rate monitor sounded to my right. Something warm laid near me to my left. I tried turning my head only to realize that there was a tube down my throat. I coughed in panic, weakly trying to pull it but a pair of powerful, gentle hands stilled my arms.
“Shh, don’t pull on that, it’ll hurt more.” A low, quiet voice came from the warmth on my left.
The person’s shadow blocked enough light for me to get a look.
“Zayne?” I tried to say, but it just came out as a muffled sound because of the tube.
“Yes, I’m here. You’re okay now. It’s okay.” His voice was hoarse and unsure, as if he was still trying to reassure himself.
Deep, purple shadows stained under his green eyes, which had lost some of its luster. His stubble was quite thick, covering his gaunt, wan face.
“I’m going to take this out now, okay? Try to let yourself relax.”
I nodded, too tired to resist. The removal was unpleasant, but it was better than having it in.
“Water?” I coughed out.
Immediately, there was a glass tipping towards my lips. Tender thumbs wiped away any drops that fell from the corners of my mouth. I winced and whimpered as this movement pulled at the wound on my chest.
“I know it hurts, I’m sorry,” he whispered as he brushed the hair from my face.
“What happened? Is that woman and her child okay?” I croaked out, watching him sit back down at my side.
“They’re unharmed, thanks to you. That wanderer you killed pierced your chest with a rock shard. It missed your heart-“ he swallowed, “by just a quarter of a millimeter. You happened to be on a floor full of trauma surgeons in town for a conference. Without them, you would’ve died from the blood loss.” His voice was just a dry whisper now. He raised one of my hands to press against his warm, dehydrated lips.
“They kept you just stable enough to transfer you to the medical center, but their surgeons were struggling to remove the shard while also dealing with your protocore syndrome. So, they called me. When I heard what happened-” he took a breath to steady his wavering voice, “I came as soon as I could. The surgery took 48 hours. But you pulled through. You pulled through.” I felt wetness under my fingers as he buried his face in my hand.
“Zayne.” I tried to reach for him and winced when the motion hurt my chest. I moved my gown a bit to take a look and had to fight back a wave of nausea.
Down the middle of my chest, between my breasts, was a horrific, red wound just starting to scar over. I made a soft noise of horror, which seemed to snap Zayne back to reality.
“The damage was extensive.” His voice was hollow, “We worried we wouldn’t have enough uninjured tissue to close the wound. But it’s healing.”
“How long have I been out?”
“A month.”
I felt dizzy.
“How much longer before I can go home?”
“At least two more weeks to observe sufficient healing.”
“Will it…scar?”
“Yes.”
Tears pricked my eyes. It was stupid and silly, but the thought of such a ghastly scar right where he could see it…
He squeezed my hand. His dull green eyes never left my face, like he was etching my features into his memory.
“Are we still in Sunscorch?”
“No, I transferred you to Akso as soon as you were stable enough.”
That comforted me somewhat. I turned to him.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You look terrible.”
He huffed a breath in the palest imitation of a chuckle.
“I’ve had some important things come up.”
“More important than showering and eating?”
He sniffed his shirt. “I suppose there’s a point to be made.”
“Go,” I said softly. “Take care of yourself. I’ll be fine here.”
“But-“ he protested, leaning closer to me, his hand clutching mine.
“You’re stinky and your stubble hurts.” I wrinkled my nose as he got closer. In truth, he didn’t stink at all, but his stubble was a bit itchy.
He was absolutely dumbfounded, blinking rapidly. “I’ll be right back then. Press the call button immediately if you feel any discomfort.” He placed the button in my hand.
“I will, I promise. I think I’ll rest a bit more.” I leaned my head back.
He studied my heart rate monitor intensely, like it would go off any second, then felt my pulse with practiced hands. He nodded once, then strode out of my room, fists clenched and brows furrowed.
Once he was gone, I let a few tears slip from my eyes and opened my gown more to look at my wound. I poked at the tender edges. Wide and deep, it’s a wonder that I lived with how much damage I sustained.
But I lived thanks to Zayne.
My heart ached, but not from my wound. I laid my head back on my pillow and covered up my chest, closing my eyes.
***
I felt something soft and warm on my forehead and opened my eyes.
Zayne had returned, clean-shaven and showered, looking only marginally better in a clean black button-up and black slacks. He still had that haunted look in his eyes that hurt me more than the injury on my chest. He raised up a paper bag with a small smile.
“I figured I would eat here with you for company.”
“Excellent idea.” I returned his smile.
He pulled out a tray of macarons and sat by my side. I eyed them carefully.
“For a doctor, you have a horrendous diet.”
He chuckled and it was real this time. “It’s all calories in the end.”
With great difficulty, I raised my hand to stroke his gaunt cheek. “Seems like you need to catch up.”
He ducked his head slightly. “How could I bear to eat when you’re suffering?”
When I didn’t reply he finally took a macaron and popped it in his mouth, chewing carefully.
“Do I smell better at least?” He leaned closely.
I could smell his aftershave and the faintest hint of cologne that he knew I liked.
“Much better.”
And then we just looked at each other, him holding one of my hands while eating with the other.
There were so many things I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him I was angry at him, that I was grateful he saved my life. That I was sorry.
But his gaze, piercing and relentless, told me he understood it all.
When he was finished, he placed the tray in the recycling bin, then laid his head on his crossed arms on my bed, still holding my hand. His eyes, which had regained some light, dulled again.
“I’m sorry I didn’t reply,” he whispered.
“It’s okay.”
“I couldn’t get out of my mind how your last words to me could have been “I miss you”, and I didn’t make the time to give you a call.” His voice was thick with sorrow.
“I knew you were busy.”
“I still should’ve called.”
I squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is you’re here with me now. You saved me, Zayne.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and tears streamed down his cheek. Ignoring the pain, I wiped them from his cheek.
“You saved me,” I repeated softly, stroking his clean hair.
He buried his face into my side, his shoulders shaking, and was careful not to disturb my wound. I tenderly ran my fingers through his hair as he silently sobbed into me. As he moved, his sleeve slid up.
I could see cuts all over the exposed skin, some shallow, most deep and angry. My stomach dropped, but I kept my horror to myself. Had he been in so much pain this entire time, he lost control of his Evol again?
Zayne had always been steady, never trembling, his words efficient and measured. I could count the times I had seen him laugh or smile on one hand, and I had never seen him upset, even during our regular disagreements.
But now his shoulders shook, his breath uneven as if each inhale scraped his throat raw, his fingers clutching my body like a lifeline.
Frost spidered up the side of his neck, thin white veins blooming against his sallow skin. The air around him snapped with cold. I felt it bite at my fingers before I pressed my palm to his chest and let my resonance push back, warming the space between us. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” His eyes were red and puffy. I wiped the moisture from his face.
“No, it was just a little cold. Your Evol seems to hurt only you.”
He took a shuddering breath, causing the ice on his neck to dissipate slightly. He laid his head on my lap and just looked at me, stroking his thumb over the back of my hand. He didn’t bother covering up his arm, some of the wounds re-opening from his momentary loss of control.
“What is it?” I asked gently, tangling my fingers in his hair, which was longer now and curled at his neck.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I wanted to let you know that.”
I smiled. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Since we were kids. I never forgot about you after you moved, y’know.”
“Neither did I.”
The light returned to his eyes, and he smiled wide and unrestrained, causing butterflies to erupt in my stomach.
“We’re going to get through this,” he vowed, “and then I will spend the remainder of my days making you as happy as possible.”
I squeezed his hand hard, and a few of my own tears slipped out to my cheeks.
“You already do, Zayne.”
The smile never left his face as we continued staring at each other until exhaustion overtook me.
***
Recovery was much more difficult than I thought. Every hour was a struggle to get myself moving while ensuring my wound did not re-open. Zayne was with me every step of the way, switching between his role as my doctor and my boyfriend with ease, even if I couldn’t appreciate it sometimes.
“Just a few more steps,” he encouraged me as the physical therapist, Kara, guided my hobbling body to the bed.
“I need a break,” I huffed, exhausted, sweaty, and hurting.
“But I know you can do a few more. You’re Linkon’s best hunter after all.”
I glared at his self-assured, handsome face. He had filled out a bit with my supervised mealtimes and mandated sleeping routine and was as beautiful as ever.
I imagined ruffling his perfect, pitch-black hair and managed to take the few steps I needed to reach my bed. Kara supported me before I could collapse completely, helping me lay back down in the bed.
“You’re doing very well, Miss,” Kara encouraged. “You should be walking on your own in no time.”
“That’s what you said last week,” I grumbled, then sighed. “But thank you for your help.”
“Of course. I’ll be back in a couple of hours, all right? Rest up before then, we’re going to try walking to the end of the hallway,” she grinned, then left my room.
Zayne then took his place by my side, his voice was soft now and I knew he was no longer in my doctor role. “She’s right. You’re doing very well.”
“It feels so slow,” I sighed in frustration. “I want to be back at home, back to work.”
He stroked my hair fondly. “I know. But recovery takes time, especially with how much damage you sustained. May I check your wound?”
I tried to suppress my blush, but nodded.
He carefully opened the front of the gown to only expose the wound, keeping my modesty. It had healed quite quickly, but still looked raw and red. I looked away, terrified of seeing something like disgust or revulsion in his gaze.
“It’s healing wonderfully,” he murmured. He almost seemed pleased.
I stayed silent as he fixed my gown to cover me.
“I believe your doctor has approved for you to be taken off your hospital diet now. Would you like me to pick up some treats to bring back to you?”
I perked up and he smiled at my expression.
“Yes! My doctor has been so mean to me, I want something tasty,” I pouted.
“I’ll have a word with him.” His eyes twinkled, the gold in his green eyes shining. “I’ll be back shortly, okay? Now rest.”
As if I could do anything else, but I obediently closed my eyes. I felt him kiss my forehead, and then he left.
***
At last, the day for my return home had arrived.
Kara and I chatted as she wheeled me down in a wheelchair to the front of the hospital where Zayne waited by the open passenger door of his car.
“Make sure to perform the exercises I prescribed to you. You should be ready to get back to work in no time,” Kara beamed as she and Zayne helped me into the car.
“I’ll make sure she follows your directions to the letter,” Zayne promised, looking at me mock sternness as I stuck my tongue out at him.
We waved our goodbyes and embarked on our drive home to Zayne’s house.
“Do all of your patients get discharged to your house for observation?” I yawned and laid back in my seat. The pain was barely noticeable now, but if I stretched too far, it was piercing.
“Only the ones I love.” He squeezed my hand, driving with his free hand.
“That better be only me.”
“It’s only ever been you,” he murmured, gently raising my hand to his lips.
I turned my head to hide my blush. “Keep your eyes on the road, Doctor Zayne.”
“As you command.”
He lowered the window to let the delightful breeze in, and I turned my face to let the sun warm my skin.
It felt so good to be free from the hospital, to be able to move without immense agony.
He never let go of my hand until we reached his house, in which he helped me rise from my seat. He let me walk to the door, using his arm as my crutch.
“Would you like to sit on the couch?”
“Yes, please.” My voice was breathless from exertion, and I was feeling a little lightheaded.
Slowly, I staggered over and let him position me towards the corner so I could lean on the couch arm.
“Are you hungry? I could make you something.”
“Perhaps some tea for now.”
“Alright. Here’s the remote, pick something to watch.”
I surfed through the movie listings, but the quiet sounds of his footsteps in the kitchen and the safety of being in his house was too comforting. I dozed off with my head resting on the arm.
When I awoke, I was tucked into a warm, gray blanket and a plate with my favorite pastry was laid on a dish in front of me on the coffee table. With great difficulty, I reached for the note that was beside it and squinted to read his messy doctor’s writing.
I left to pick up a few things from the grocery store. Call me when you’re awake. -Zayne
I felt my face split into a smile as I picked up the pastry and began munching on it. When I was done, I made the call. The phone rang once.
“Hello, how are you feeling?”
“A little sore, but better.”
“Good. I’m on my way back. I got you a surprise. Several surprises in fact.”
“I must say, I quite enjoy this special treatment, Doctor Zayne.”
“I have to get Linkon City’s best Hunter back in good health, no?”
“You’re doing a wonderful job by the way. Thank you for taking care of me.”
It was quiet for a few moments. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” His voice was a little hoarse.
“See you soon, Zayne.” The phone clicked.
Later, he returned with his hands full of grocery bags. I hobbled up from my place as if to help.
“Sit.” His voice was stern enough to make me obey immediately. “I can take care of this,” he added gently and went into the kitchen.
“Do you still want some tea?” he called.
“Yes, please.”
With the warm mug in my hands and his hands tenderly massaging my bare feet, I was feeling pretty good now.
“Zayne,” I brought up shyly.
“Yes?”
“I think I need help bathing. I can’t get my wound wet, right?”
“Correct. I can help you.”
I turned my blushing face away, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I will help as a doctor. I will be completely professional,” he assured me. “Do you want to do that now?”
I nodded silently.
“I’ll get the bath started then.”
Nerves coiled in my belly as I waited on the couch. He looked even more beautiful than usual today, healthy and glowing with appropriate sleep and food. To have him so close to my bare body…
I swallowed when he appeared in the living room.
“Are you ready? I need to dress the wound with waterproof bandages first; we can do that in the bathroom.”
I nodded as he helped me rise and guided me to his en-suite bathroom in his bedroom. I sat on a stool in the tub. With trembling hands, I unbuttoned the short sleeve shirt I had on and gingerly crossed my arms over my bare breasts, refusing to look down.
“I will be done quickly.” His face was expressionless and professional as he knelt beside me on a plush towel he laid for himself.
When he started wrapping my torso with the bandages, I slowly lowered my hands the more covered I became. I didn’t look at him once.
“Is this okay?” His voice was low, but clear.
I nodded.
“You’re rather the quiet patient today,” he commented as he tucked the end of the bandage somewhere in the back.
Inexplicably, tears welled in my eyes.
“Tell me, what’s wrong?” He lightly pulled my chin up to look at him.
“It’s the scar,” I mumbled, looking away from his gentle eyes.
“What about it?”
“I’m afraid you won’t look at me the same way, that it’ll turn you off or something. It’s so ugly.”
He was suddenly very, very still. I looked at him.
His eyes were burning a hole through me, not angry, but incredibly intense. He moved his face closer, close enough to see the moisture collect in his eyes.
“That scar is the most beautiful reminder that my existence has some meaning to you, that I saved your life. It’s a monument to your strength, that you fight even against all odds. How can you say otherwise? How can you think otherwise?” He may as well have screamed with how his words wounded me.
I hung my head and he gathered me to his chest where I could hear his heartbeat thunder under my damp face.
“Do you have any idea what it cost me to think you wouldn’t pull through?” he whispered into my hair. I looked at his bare arms, covered in still-healing scars from losing control of his Evol.
“Living and breathing and beautiful. This is what I think when I look at you. I cannot entertain anything else.”
I raised my face up to him, searching. His mouth found mine easily, kissing me so deeply I nearly collapsed in his embrace.
“Now, let me help you. Is that alright?” His breathing was ragged when he finally pulled away.
“Yes,” I replied, my own breathing erratic.
He smiled slightly, eyes gazing down at me with utter adoration. “Now, let’s start with your hair. Tilt your head back for me, please.”
I obeyed, closing my eyes as he used a shower nozzle to spray my hair with warm water, then shampooed it. His touch was divine, his nails gently scraping at my scalp. I let out a soft, shuddering moan.
“Feels good?” he murmured.
“Mhmm,” I replied dreamily.
He rinsed out the soap then applied conditioner, continuing to massage my head as it set. When my hair was rinsed and clean, he gently squeezed the excess water out and carefully put it up in a towel.
“Now, for the rest of you.”
There was some fleeting embarrassment when I lifted my hips so he could remove my shorts and underwear, but it dissipated when I saw the look on his face. Devotion, care, affection all shined in his eyes. He wet my lower body with a washcloth and then began rubbing soap on my skin. He was…very thorough.
When he ran the washcloth between my legs, I let out a gasp that was slightly too loud. My cheeks burned.
“Did that hurt you?” he asked, looking at my face. When I didn’t answer and he read my expression, I was delighted to see his ears redden.
“Strictly professional,” he muttered as if to remind himself, returning to soaping my inner thighs.
I couldn’t help but squirm, torn between wanting him to continue and stopping.
“Would you be more comfortable doing this yourself?” he asked gently.
“No,” I said quickly, then bit my lip. “I want you…to continue.”
“Oh?” He playfully raised an eyebrow.
“It’s just been…a long time.” If I could combust right now, I would.
“Ah, I see.” He was quiet for a moment, then leaned into my ear. “Well, as your primary care physician, I want to ensure my patient has the best quality of life possible.”
I couldn’t help but giggle. “If the medical board found out how far you’re willing to go to help your patient, Doctor Zayne, I think you would lose your license.”
He chuckled and the sound skittered along my spine, sending goosebumps across my shoulders and arms.
“Why don’t we help each other out then?” He took my earlobe in his teeth and I shivered.
I turned my head to kiss him, the heat from his mouth enveloping me and shooting straight to my core. His wet hand found its way between my legs, rubbing my mound.
“Tell me, is this okay?”
“Yes,” I gasped, clutching his arms for purchase.
It was a simple touch, just his warm hand on my sensitive skin, but it drove me crazy.
“Here, lean against me.” He sat on the edge of the tub, scooting my stool between his legs.
I was completely enveloped in his embrace, his legs on either side of mine while one hand rubbed my thighs and the other continued rubbing my mound slowly.
“You’ll have to tell me what you want,” he murmured in my ear. “I must admit this is my first time administering this kind of treatment.”
I gave a breathless laugh. “You already seem to know what you’re doing.”
“I have been told I’m a quick learner.” He slid his middle finger between my folds, finding my clit when I gasped and clutched his arms.
“Zayne!”
“Hmm, like that?” He pressed deliberate circles directly on my clit.
“Too much, use less pressure.” I tried squirming but he held me still.
He adjusted easily, and the pleasure began to bloom in my belly.
I moaned out his name again, throwing my head back to his chest.
“What about this?” He circled my entrance.
“Yes, yes, good.” I was becoming a mumbling mess.
“And when I do this?” He inserted his middle finger into me then started circling my clit with his thumb.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Zayne.”
It had been several weeks since I had been able to touch myself, so the pleasure was boiling up my core easily.
He picked up the pace gradually, letting my orgasm build up beautifully.
“Zayne-“ I sobbed, “I’m going to-“
“Come for me.” His voice was an unrecognizable growl in my ear. “Show me how good I make you feel.”
I shattered in his arms as he held me tightly, letting me convulse against his hand until I was finished. Then I collapsed in his arms, my chest heaving with exertion.
“You did so good,” he praised, kissing away the tears that fell on my cheek.
“I love you, I love you so much,” I gasped out, stroking his arms with trembling hands.
He gave me a soft moan against my skin, nuzzling into my neck.
“Can I do anything for you?” I started reaching for him behind me where I could feel his rock-hard length press into my back.
“Not tonight, you need to rest.”
“Are you sure? I can-“ My hands felt a considerable wet spot.
“I assure you, I’m more than fine.” He grabbed my wandering hands away and crossed them over my torso. “What about you? Does your wound hurt?”
I tested it out by wiggling a little. “Maybe a bit, but nothing serious.”
“Good.” He rubbed his nose along the length of my neck. “I suppose you need another rinse.”
“I feel like a dog getting hosed off in the yard.”
“I think you would be a yappy, little chihuahua if you were a dog.”
“Hey!” I laughed, shoving myself into him.
My bath continued without further mischief and I was the picture-perfect patient as he dried and brushed my hair afterwards. He dressed me in my loose pajamas and carried me to his bed even though I probably could’ve done it myself.
I laid in his comfortable bed, clean and sated and cozy, while he quickly prepared himself for the night. When he started climbing into bed, I reached out for him and was tightly gathered in his embrace, my face nuzzled in his neck.
“I love you, Zayne,” I mumbled softly, exhaustion finally overtaking me.
“I love you, too. So much,” he whispered into my hair.
The sound of his strong, steady heartbeat lulled me to sleep.
***
The next week passed by without much fanfare. I focused on my physical therapy while he returned to work. He was very thoughtful replying to my messages and brought home various sweet treats. On the last day of a week of 12 hours shifts, I wanted to do something special for him.
I let the decadent chocolate cake I made cool on the counter while I hopped in the shower for a quick rinse. My wound had healed completely now, and I was cleared to bathe on my own to my great relief and Zayne’s slight displeasure (although he would never admit it).
I dressed in the nicest dress I owned, a rare garment due to the nature of my work. It was a pretty, light shade of blue with thin straps. I gazed at my reflection in the mirror of his bedroom. I had lost quite a bit of muscle, the dress was loose around my shoulders and thighs. I pinched my thin cheeks. My eyes were drawn to the deep red scar on my chest prominently on display. I toyed with the neckline, trying to hoist it up but it was no use. I took a steadying breath and averted my eyes. Once I had applied a bit of makeup and did my hair, I hurried back to the kitchen to finish icing the cake.
Then, it was time to wait. I checked the clock on the stove: he would be returning any second now. I sat at the dining table in anticipation, nerves and excitement making me a trembling mess.
The door clicked and I sprang up.
“My love? I’m home.” His voice sounded tired, but affectionate all the same.
“Come to the dining room,” I called, fighting to keep my voice steady.
“What are you up to now?” he asked, a warm smile evident in his voice. When he stepped into the room, his eyes widened.
I stood at the center with the cake in my hands, beaming.
“Surprise! I wanted to thank my favorite doctor for his diligent work.”
He was speechless, swaying at the entrance of the dining room for a few moments before striding over to me, taking the cake from my hands, then lifting me up with his other arm.
“What a lovely surprise,” he murmured, kissing my cheek. “You made this yourself?”
“Yep! It was a complicated recipe, so hopefully it came out good.”
“I’d eat it even if it was filled with cement.”
I laughed and buried my face in his neck, inhaling the scent of him. Disinfectant and his aftershave.
“And your scar, is it alright?”
“It’s good, Doctor Zayne. Thanks to you.” I placed a big, wet kiss on his cheek.
He set me down on the floor, ears flaming red. But his eyes never left mine as his fingertips traced over my cheek.
“You promise?” His face inched closer to mine.
“I promise.” I tiptoed to meet him.
His lips were gentle and reverent, I could feel the relief in his mouth as he drew even closer to me. I felt the cake in his arm wobble.
“Careful!” I giggled, pulling away to steady the cake and guiding him to the table.
“Hmm,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around my waist to hold me against his warm body. “I wonder what’s sweeter, you or this cake?”
“Why don’t you find out?” I batted my eyelashes, reveling in watching his pupils dilate before kissing me again.
It was hungrier this time and not as gentle. He was supporting most of my weight to draw me further up his body. When I was getting lightheaded, I drew back breathlessly, “Have a slice first, I worked so hard on it.”
“Of course, how rude of me.” His breathing was just as ragged, and he set me down to start cutting into the cake.
“It’s perfect,” he said through a giant bite.
I beamed proudly and copied his movements. It was actually pretty good. We finished a slice in companionable silence, playing footsie under the table.
“I’ll clean up, you…should go shower.” I looked at him from beneath my eyelashes suggestively, blushing.
He stared and stared until his ears were a burning red.
“As you wish,” he said before hastily hurrying to his bathroom.
I quickly washed the plates and packed up the cake for later, then slipped into his bed to wait. I was a fidgeting mess, tugging at the hem and neckline of my dress.
Then he stepped into the bedroom, hair damp and wearing nothing but a pair of loose, gray pajama pants. From this distance, I could see a light dusting of a dark trail of hair from his belly button to under his pants. The hard planes of his body in the soft light of the lamp were breathtaking. Even more so were his eyes staring at me, his pupils large and dark as they traced my figure in his bed. I started to sit up.
“No, stay like that.” His voice was husky and soft. I laid back down.
“That dress is lovely.” His finger traced over the strap to the neckline. “But it is not conducive for sleeping, no?”
“Is that what we’re going to do, sleep?”
He leaned in closely. “No, but you’ll find out soon enough.” He took a strap with his teeth and lowered it, kissing my skin all the way down my neckline. His fingertips traced patterns over my back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I winced slightly when his lips found my scar.
“Does it hurt?”
“No.” My voice trembled.
His hand lowered the other strap, gently tugging the top of my dress down to expose more of my chest. He kissed each new inch of scar exposed and I shook in his arms.
“So strong, my brave Hunter,” he whispered against my skin. I clutched his head closer to me. “Perfect and beautiful and so, so strong.”
A couple of tears escaped my eyes.
“Don’t believe me? I’ll have to show you then.” He pulled the dress down my torso and thighs, slipping it easily over my ankles. I laid in front of him bare, my hands itching to cover my chest. He noticed, circling each of my wrists and raising them above my head.
“Let me see how beautiful you are, don’t hide from me.”
I turned my head, struggling to keep the sobs burning in my throat from escaping.
“My darling, my love, please. Look at me.”
I obeyed, gazing up at him with blurry vision. His face was filled with quiet worry.
“Will you let me do this for you?”
“You don’t have to,” I whispered wetly.
“But I want to. I don’t want to regret another moment. I want to show you how much you mean to me. Please?” And his eyes were big and green and beautiful.
I loosed a shuddering breath and nodded, willing myself to relax.
“Tell me when to stop or if it hurts, okay?” He released my wrists, running his hands down my forearms to my sides.
“Okay.” I melted under his reassurance.
He lowered his head to kiss me, his lips soft and gentle like he expected to move no further than this. The sweetness of it made a few more tears slide down my cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” he begged between kisses, moving his mouth to kiss my tears.
“Can’t help it,” I hiccupped. “You make me so happy.”
He hummed, kissing my forehead. “And I cannot put into words how you make me feel. So, I’ll have to show you. I don’t want you to ever forget.” He slid his hand to the side of my hip, squeezing.
He started at my forehead, kissing his way down. His lips were featherlight and warm, brushing over my eyelids, the bridge of my nose, my chin, then lower, down the line of my throat to the top of my scar. His breath fanned over the skin there, the heat of him spreading over my body. I stayed still when he pressed his ear against my chest, careful to not irritate my scar, listening.
“Still healthy, Doctor Zayne?”
“Healthy and alive, I could ask for nothing more.”
His other hand cupped my breasts, squeezing and kneading the soft skin. He guided my nipple into his mouth where he sucked on the sensitive flesh. I sighed, pressing my chest further into his face. When he was done nuzzling, his kisses went to my belly, which had grown soft in my recovery. I chuckled a bit, trying to squirm away.
“Ticklish?” he smirked, but he moved to my open thighs, kissing my knee.
“I’ve never done this before,” he admitted, trailing his hands to my inner thighs and pulling them apart. “Tell me if you don’t like it.” He lowered his head, kissing at the center of my wet slit. I jumped at the contact, surprisingly sensitive.
Then he opened his mouth and licked me. His tongue was gentle, carefully noting which areas elicited the reaction he wanted from me. When he seemed satisfied with mapping my body, his attacks became precise, and I bucked instinctively against his face. One arm pinned me in place while the other raised his hand to insert a finger into me, curling into my quivering walls. I couldn’t move anywhere, held still by his mercy as white-hot pleasure coursed through my veins.
I was beginning to peak, my orgasm building up powerfully and swiftly at his hands. Then, before it could finish building, he stopped.
“Zayne,” I whined, squirming to rub myself against his face.
“I want to feel you on me,” he panted, raising himself in front of me. He grabbed my knees and pushed until they were at my ears.
I tore my gaze away from his perfectly chiseled torso to between our legs. His cock rested on my stomach as he seemed to test how far into me he could go. I was exhilarated to find he would nearly reach the bottom of my ribcage from this angle. He frowned as he regarded this.
“Please,” I bleated, raising my hips. “Fill me up.”
His breath shuddered as he took himself in his hand and rubbed against my pulsing pussy. Then tentatively, he pressed his fat tip at my entrance, tipping forward slightly.
I moaned, staring at the place where we met before he tipped my chin up.
“Look at me,” he whispered, his gaze uncharacteristically hazy and unfocused. His hips dipped forward again and I had to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head. “That’s right, take me.”
I let out a hiss between my teeth once his hips were flush with the backs of my thighs. I was incandescent with how perfectly we fit together and smiled at him. His thumb swiped over my curled lips, the corner of his mouth twitching up in response as if he knew what I was thinking.
He drew back, then thrust back in slowly, letting me savor his sizeable length. His eyes never strayed from my face, watching me closely. I wrapped my hands around his scarred forearms, tugging his body to be closer to mine.
He obliged, spreading my legs so he could lower himself over me. From this position, I could hear the subtle changes in his breath as he continued methodically thrusting in and out of me. I clung to him, my hands winding their way up his broad back. I relished the way his muscles rippled from restraint and exertion.
But I wanted more.
I bucked my hips in time with his thrusts, desperate for more stimulation since he left me on edge. He responded by slipping his thumb between us, circling my clit. Already tender, I picked up where I left off, letting that white-hot bliss rise up my spine easily.
“You feel good.” His voice was awed at my ear, his hips never giving up their pace.
When the angle of his cock changed just slightly to hit the most sensitive spot of my spongy walls, my body began to tighten up. I felt myself clamp down on him, nearly keeping him in place, and I could hear the result of it in the pitch of his breathing.
“Yes,” he exhaled wordlessly as I began to tremble. His hips picked up pace ever so slightly, barely enough to allow me to peak.
“Zayne, ‘m coming,” I gasped, shaking in his arms. Blistering pleasure bloomed inside me, just in time to feel his cock pulse with his own release.
His hips jerked with each sputter of his cock, sending shockwaves through my throbbing pussy. He instinctively knew how to draw it out until I nearly sobbed from overstimulation. When my thundering pulse finally quieted in my ears, I could hear his soft gasps as he struggled to regain composure.
“Love you,” he murmured into my sweaty neck.
“Love you,” I smiled, trailing my fingers over his back.
He pulled out of me, but slid his head down to my chest, listening to my heartbeat calm down.
“I used to think this was the loveliest sound in the world,” he murmured as he hugged me. “But now I think it’s the sound of my name when I feel you come.”
I giggled and tried to squirm away, but he held me tightly.
“Zayne,” I protested, pushing lightly against his shoulder. “I have to clean up.”
He grunted, nuzzling further into my chest.
“My doctor would be very upset with me if he knew I didn’t take the proper precautions after intercourse.” I imitated his know-it-all tone.
He gave a long-suffering sigh, but got up, easily scooping me into his arms and heading to his bathroom.
“I can go by myself, you know,” I grumbled.
“Sure,” he agreed, setting me down on the closed lid of the toilet. “But maybe you need a doctor’s supervision.”
“Out of the question,” I said immediately, shooing him out of the restroom.
Afterward, we lay naked in each other’s arms, gazing deeply into one another’s eyes. In some ways, this felt more intimate to me than making love. His fingers trailed over my scar.
“Does it still bother you?”
I hesitated. “I hate how it looks.”
The corner of his mouth turned down.
“Do you think my scars are ugly?” He raised his arm up, the scars highlighted in the dim light. The shallow ones had mostly healed, the skin pink and raised. The deeper cuts were still healing.
“Of course not.” I guided his hand down to press my lips to his knuckles.
“Then why do you insist yours are?”
“Because when I see it, I remember,” I said quietly. “And sometimes I wish I didn’t.”
He was silent, moving his hand to brush against my cheek.
“I was so angry with you that day,” I confessed.
He closed his eyes briefly, remembering.
“And I thought I was going to die without ever letting you know how much I loved you, how badly I wanted us to work. Do you know what my last thought was before I lost consciousness?”
His brows drew together, as if he was afraid to hear it, his lips a thin line slashed across his face.
“I wish you had loved me as much as I loved you.”
He let out a quiet, shuddering breath. His hand trembled against my cheek. Then he kissed me desperately and it felt like a ragged scream. One hand cradled the back of my neck like he was afraid I might disappear.
“I did,” he said hoarsely. “I do.”
“I know,” I murmured, brushing the hair from his forehead.
He buried his face in the crook of my neck, drawing my leg over his thigh.
“Need you, need to show you,” he whispered, his cock already hard against my belly.
“Take what you need.”
My body was pliant, soft, and readily took him. He was gasping into the skin of my neck, crushing my body against his chest. I could feel his pulse thunder under my touch. He was silent except for his muted pants, but every gentle thrust into my body said the same thing: love you, love you, love you.
He etched these words into whatever skin he could reach, my neck, my collarbones, at the top of my scar. When he finally raised his head to meet my gaze, I could see the tears in his eyes.
“My Zayne,” I murmured sadly, brushing the tears that had fallen on his cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered brokenly, thrusting particularly deep and keeping himself there.
“It’s okay, we’re here now.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “A second chance. I will spend my life making it up to you.”
I tangled my fingers in his hair, kissing him. He groaned softly, thrusting gently again.
“When I’m inside you,” he pulled out and thrust back in. “I feel like I can tell you anything.”
“But you always can, my love.”
“I will never forget,” he moved again, “getting that call from the hospital that you were dying.” His voice broke.
I stilled as he continued making love to me.
“And when I ran into the operating room and you were there, cut open on the table, so pale already from the blood loss, I thought you were gone. But your heart was still beating, I could see it. Then I held it in my hands as the team tried to cut the shard out. Each beat was a miracle.” He swallowed. “I started losing control of my Evol. I was so scared I was going to hurt you. So, I hurt myself instead. I needed something to keep me grounded.”
A soft sob escaped me. “Zayne, no.”
“I had to,” he whispered. “I would’ve done anything to save the girl I love.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, tightening my leg around his waist to encourage him to roll on top of me.
“Need you,” I breathed, repeating his words from earlier. I wanted to chase this pain away.
He was fucking me intently now, clearly thinking the same. His arms caged me in, his hips bucking relentlessly.
“Zayne,” I tried to say, but I couldn’t get the word out from the overwhelming pleasure of having him inside of me.
I saw his lips move as he tried to say my name. He stared at me with such overwhelming intensity, I could feel myself shattering underneath him.
“Zayne, I’m, ah!-,” was all I could manage as I succumbed. My body shook underneath his as he collapsed and came inside me.
We held each other tightly as we fought to steady our breath and pulses. His hand stayed pressed to my cheek, thumb brushing over my skin in small, grounding circles, and I rested my forehead against his. The tremor in his grip told me everything he couldn’t say, the fear, the regret, the desperate relief of having me here, alive, in his arms. I traced the raised lines of his scars with trembling fingers, and he flinched once, then relaxed.
His ear was over my chest, listening intently to my heartbeat. We stayed like that, pressed together in silence, letting the world shrink to the space between us, to the steady rise and fall of our chests. Somewhere in the quiet, I repeated, almost unconsciously. “Love you.”
He tightened his hold, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “Love you,” he echoed. It was a promise, a lifeline, a fragile, unspoken vow that whatever came next, we would face it side by side