Chapter 82

Fiona

“Come on,” Ethan whispers, tugging me toward the bathroom. I allow him to guide me, bringing me into the bathroom and sitting me on the sink. Then, I watch as he walks over to the shower and turns the knobs, testing the water until it’s just right.

Steam fills the room, fogging up the glass and the mirror.

“Come here.”

He holds out a hand for me, squeezing mine when I place it in his hand.

“Let me help you relax,” Ethan murmurs, gently lifting the hem of the shirt I’m wearing. I lean into him, allowing him to take the lead and pull my shirt over my head before dropping it to the floor. His fingers trail down my ribs to the waistline of the sweatpants I’m wearing, sending shivers through my body as he pushes them down.

My breathing grows heavy as he undresses me, his strong fingers on my skin, his eyes taking me in with admiration, and his body pressing against mine.

Ethan backs me up, nudging me until I’m under the water, the warmth sinking into my bones and pounding my aching muscles. My head falls back as a moan escapes me, and then his hands are on my hips.

“Feeling better?” Ethan asks at my back.

“A bit,” I murmur, leaning back into his chest. Skillful, strong fingers massage my shoulders, working at the knots and making me moan again. The release of pressure feels so good, my legs almost give out, but Ethan catches me with an arm around my waist.

Water rains down around us, and I close my eyes, soaking in the feel of him. His touch moves from my shoulders to my hair, rubbing in the shampoo that somehow smells just like mine at home. The strawberry scent mixed with the amazing feeling of him massaging my scalp makes me slump back against him.

I’ve never had anyone take care of me like this before. Jack never pampered me, only demanded what he wanted. It was all about him in our relationship, very rarely focusing on me; but with Ethan, even with him knowing I can’t give him my everything, he still takes care of me.

Ethan takes extra care with my injured areas, careful not to hurt the bruises, scrapes, claw marks, and burns. Small growls fall from Ethan’s lips as he cleans each one.

“They’ll pay for hurting you,” he grumbles. I merely nod, not needing the promise of revenge that shakes his body. Instead, I turn and run my hands up his arms to cup his face.

“Thank you, but I don’t think you should fight them again so soon,” I tell him, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss to his lips. The last thing I want is for him to get hurt like he did while fighting the other Lycan.

Ethan doesn’t respond as he pulls me closer and continues washing my hair and body. I revel in his tender touch, letting him care for me as no one has ever done before. The way he touches me, like I’m the most precious thing he’s known, softens my heart toward him even more. He’s making it incredibly hard to choose a life without him.

As he finishes taking care of me, we climb out of the shower and dry off. He helps me get dressed in some clothes, even though I tell him I can dress myself.

“Let me take care of you,” he requests, and the insistent tone makes me give in. Who am I to deny a man who wants to pamper me like a queen? I’d be stupid to stop him, and as much as I want him to throw me down on the bed and have his way with me, I let him dress me.

“Do you have plans today?” Ethan asks as he pulls a shirt on.

“I want to go to the house and see—”

Ethan spins toward me, surprised.

“You want to. You shouldn’t go to the house while you’re still injured,” he tells me, laying his hands on my shoulders. “You should stay in bed a little longer until you’re fully recovered.”

“Me? You’re the one with the more severe injuries,” I argue. “Besides, you’re not fully over the poison in your system, and if you’re still hurting, you can just say so. You don’t have to come with me.”

He growls.

“As if I’d let you go alone even if my injuries weren’t healed.” He spins around, holding his arms up in a show that he’s fine. I shake my head. Of course he is.

“Must be nice to have super Lycan healing,” I joke, absentmindedly lifting my hand to my neck. When my fingers touch nothing but skin, I look down. The necklace is gone.

Spinning around, I search the floor around me. The wood floors hold nothing but a few articles of clothing that we’d been wearing earlier. I move to the bed, running my hands over it, flipping the covers back, and shoving pillows around.

“Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“The necklace,” I whimper. “I was wearing it when… when…”

Ethan steps in front of me, grabbing me by the shoulders and stopping me from running around the room even more.

“I’m so sorry,” I murmur as panic and regret fill my chest. I lost the necklace he gave me, the necklace that was extremely important to him and his family. “I must’ve lost it at the house and now, oh God. It’s gone, isn’t it?”

“It’s more important that you got out of there okay,” Ethan says, but it does nothing to stop the tears welling in my eyes. I can’t believe I lost the necklace.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright, Fiona. It’s not the end of the world that the necklace is gone. We can go to the house and look for it, but you need to know that…” he pauses. “It’s not going to be pretty, Fiona. The fire was too big for anything to have survived.”

I knew that. After he said something exploded, I didn’t expect anything to survive, but some little part inside me has a bit of hope. Maybe something survived, and if it did, I’m going to find it.

Nodding, I take Ethan’s hand and let him lead me out to his car. I don’t say anything as we go because I don’t know what to say. I take the time to mentally prepare myself for what I’ll see when we get to the house, or what’s left of it.

My fingers clutch at the hem of my shirt, my eyes running over the city as we fly past. The closer we get to the house, the more nervous I grow, until Ethan reaches over and takes my hand in his. He squeezes it as we drive onto my street and park.

I gasp, climbing out of the car on shaking legs.

Caution tape lines my yard, attempting to keep people off the burned lawn and away from the burned and broken rubble that was once my house.

“Fiona,” is all that Ethan gets out before my knees give out and send me to the ground. He catches me just before I hit the grass. My vision blurs, anger and sadness clawing at my chest, as I break down into tears.

Ethan’s arms curl around me, and I take what comfort he provides, leaning into him and crying my frustration. It bubbles within me as I stare at the house, tightening my throat and making it difficult to breathe.

There’s no way we’ll find anything in this mess. It’s practically a pile of ash just waiting to be blown away.

My mother’s home- my home- is gone.