A Mate's Revenge(12)
He tried the knob and it turned easily. Opening it a crack, he asked again, “You okay?”
She didn’t answer.
Cael pushed the door open farther until he could see in. Steam filled the small area. The shower had a glass door and he could see Isabesh through it. She was huddled on the floor, scrubbing at her neck frantically. She hadn’t noticed him.
“Hey,” he said carefully. But she still didn’t seem to hear him. She moved the washrag down her arms, getting more and more hysterical by the second.
Cael could smell her tears, feel her urgency. She’d scrub her skin raw if he didn’t stop her.
He yanked the shower door open. Startled, she brought her arms up to cover herself. He crouched down, staying outside, giving her space to realize he wasn’t threatening.
She stared at him with wide, desperate eyes. “I can’t get the smell of him off. It’s everywhere.”
Oh, damn. Cael’s heart hurt.
“He marked you,” he reminded her, his throat thick. “A long time ago.”
“I know. I know. But I want it off. I need him off of me. Now.” Her voice rose until it shrieked, bouncing off the walls of the stall. She continued scouring her body while the scalding water streamed down.
“Isabesh. Stop.” His alpha dominance came forward but she didn’t submit.
“I have to get it off,” she whispered. “There must be a way. There must.”
Cael could think of only one, but it would be horrible for her. Then again, what was worse? Living with her abuser’s scent in her skin or… the alternative.
He swallowed the knot in his throat. He wasn’t ready for this. He was too angry. Too bitter. Old wounds had been ripped open and the pain was too fresh.
But he knew what she needed right now.
Before he had the chance to explain, Isabesh’s head snapped up, her watery hopeless gaze leveled on him. “You,” she said, defeated. “You can take it away.”
He stared hard at the woman who’d once been his hope, then became his condemnation, and now, would be his hell. Naked, on the tiled floor, asking for his help on a level that had everything to do with animal instinct and absolutely nothing to do with emotion.
She needed him to take her, let his animal imprint on her, purify her of her mate’s claim. The way only a wolf could.
Not as a lover; as an alpha.
Cael burst to his feet, pacing the small room, fists clenching. He would do this. And it would be as much for him as it was for her. Removing that fucker’s imprint would do them both a world of good.
But he didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t know what sort of damage Jax had inflicted.
Was this the right thing?
“Cael.” Her voice shook uncontrollably. “Please. I know I don’t deserve it, after everything, but if you wanted me to suffer, surely you would have just left me there.”
His chest grew tight, making breathing nearly impossible. She needed an alpha. A noble one, who wouldn’t hurt her, reduce her to a shell of a person.
“Do this one thing for me, please, then take your revenge later.” Her frail request was more than he could stand. She wasn’t his wolf yet, no oath had been taken. But no alpha worth his fucking salt would let a wounded shifter suffer.
He had the power to free her fully, and he’d do it. God help him, he’d do it. And they’d both pay the consequences later.
Chapter Five
“Get up,” Cael murmured, holding his hand out for her. His wolf hesitated only a fraction, knowing what they were about to do was forbidden now that he’d found his intended. But Avan had already relinquished any rights.
Slowly, Isabesh uncurled from her spot near the drain. Cael dragged his eyes over her body. Her once strong arms were thin and speckled with bruises. Around her neck was a thin red ring. Probably the result of being choked with something.
That spineless motherfucker.
He let his anger flare to the surface. If he focused it on the one who deserved it the most, it would make this easier.
Isabesh’s fingers brushed his palm and he closed his hand around hers, pulling her from the shower. Grabbing a towel from the shelf, he used it to carefully dry her long blond hair. It was one of his favorite things about her. It had always been soft and thick.
He recalled making love to her on a blanket by the lake when they were young and hopeful. She’d confessed the horrors of her home and all he’d wanted to do was take her away. He promised her she wouldn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to ever again. When they were both sated, she’d lain with her head on his chest, that hair strung everywhere like threads of silk cocooning them.
He hadn’t been able to look twice at a woman with blonde hair since. He’d taken only brunettes or, on occasion, a red-head when he needed his physical needs met. Which was very rare, since his emotional needs were wound so tightly with the physical.