Chapter 98

Her eyes widen in horror.
I bite back a satisfied smirk. 
“You—you saved me, and now you’re hurt, and it’s all because of me! Oh my God, I don’t—just—just sit down, Ethan! Please!” 
Oh, this is adorable.  
“Don’t worry about me,” I murmur, playing it up now. “It’s just a little bit of blood.” I let out a slow, dramatic sigh and wobble just enough for her to fuss even more. Immediately, her hands are on me, steadying me like I might collapse at any second. 
Her fuss doubles. “A little bit?! A LITTLE BIT! Sit *down!*"  
I let her guide me to a chair, her warm fingers fluttering over my bloody hand in desperate, frantic care. And I decide right then that I should ‘get hurt’ more often. If playing wounded gets her hands on me like this.
“I,” I mutter weakly, barely holding back my grin. “Although it’s... Pretty severe, I’ll be fine, Little Dove.”  
“I’ll take care of this.” She takes the knife from my other hand and carries it to the sink. “I recall where I stashed a first aid kit in the living room. It never had to be used, thank God that no one got hurt ever since.”
She bolts out of the kitchen in a rush, and that’s all it takes for me to tilt my head back and let out a silent laugh. My shoulders shake as I try to hold it in, but the effort is useless.
My action can be considered positively evil. 
Nevertheless, I consider keep doing it. 
Am I okay with manipulating my fated mate in such a devious manner? 
I mean, obviously. 
I have already attempted something far worse. 
When she finds out the truth, she may hold a grudge against me for the deception. But I’m sure that grudge won’t be eternal. 
There are limits and lines I shouldn’t cross, but there are also things that I desperately want but can not achieve without schemes. Like this right now.
As an Alpha, I enjoy being needed. In charge. When Little Dove would call me in the past because there was something wrong that she needed me, like driving her to Summerville, I’d rush off to rescue her. That’s just who I am. So, I push down that feeling of guilt for doing this to her and enjoy the fuss of my tiny mate.
“Allie? What are you looking for?” I hear my sister’s voice three rooms away from the kitchen, probably where Alicent is looking for the said first aid kit.
“I found it!” She sounds like she whispers to herself in relief.
“Are you hurt?” Vi asks worriedly.
“No, it’s not for me. It’s for Ethan, he saved me! He caught the knife that slipped from my hand seconds before it fell on my foot.” I hear Little Dove answer her as she gets closer and closer to where I am. “He’s bleeding, Vi!”
Even from far away, I can hear my sister’s mischievous smile. “No shit!”
I hear Little Dove’s hurried footsteps heading to the kitchen while my sister goes in the opposite direction. ‘That’s so fucking low, Ian,’ Vi mindlinks me. ‘Even for you.’
Even from a distance, I can hear her and Josh burst into laughter moments later.
‘Do you plan to stop laughing anytime soon?’ I mindlink both of them.
‘Not really!’ They answer me in unison. Still laughing.
‘Manipulating your poor mate, Ian? Is this part of your big plan to get her back?’ The cheery little monster that she is, Vi says, ‘I bet he had to stab his own hand, Josh!’
‘I would have given anything to have seen it,’ Josh adds, laughing his ass off. 
Vi asks, ‘Your left arm?’
‘My unborn child.’
‘For fuck’s sake!’ I grunt.
‘Yeah, Grunting! Perfect way to pretend to be in pain,’ my sister says with a laugh. ‘My point is making itself.’
The irritating racket of their laughter stirs an urge to silence my Beta with a much deserved fist to the face and a shove to my dearest sister. Thankfully, my Little Dove walks into the kitchen, or the prospect of that might be too damn tempting. 
She comes towards me, carrying a red first aid kit in her hand. As soon as she reaches me, she opens it and starts putting what she thinks I’ll oh so need on the table next to me.
Her fingers brush my bloody hand. 
Softly.
Delicately. 
Like she fears hurting me. 
The thought would’ve made me laugh—like the two idiots upstairs—has I not tensed, my entire being focusing on that simple touch. 
All the blood that isn’t diverted to my cock seems to rush toward it, blooming under her fingers. Acting purely on instinct, my ‘good’ hand shoots out, curling around her slim waist and dragging her forward toward me. And the best part is that she doesn’t flinch at my touch. Maybe she’s too worried right now for that.
I’d healed from worse, but the knowledge that she wants to take care of my wound, in an attempt to help me, makes my chest ache. I’m a Werewolf. I’m not used to being cared for in that way. 
Her bright aura’s returned to its radiant state. I was right; she just needed to heal.
Without her knowing, I ordered my contacts in Summerville to track down her ex-husband. But they came up empty. The house where he’d been living with her and Az already had a new family settled in, and there was no trace of him.
The desire to let Kral hunt that fucker like a wild animal so then I can maim him over and over simmer like oil in the pit of my gut, scalding every last one of my organs. When I took Vi’s place and was cursed, I thought that I held a general hatred for many things besides not knowing my fated mate—like the feeling of being numb.
As it turns out, I hate that motherfucker more than anything. What he did to Alicent was like digging his own grave—and I’ll make sure he pays for it.  
I haven’t made the trip there yet because I couldn’t bring myself to leave my precious mate behind. I wonder how Jordan and Vi manage to stay apart for so long.
Her face crumples in distress. Hesitantly, my beloved soulmate asks, “Can... Can you open your hand so I can take care of the cut?”
How the hell does she fit all her big right aura in such a little body? 
“I’ll clean it,” I answer, holding out my ‘uninjured’ hand. “Just pass me the gauze.”  
“Are you sure? I can do it.”  
“Baby, your hand is shaking.” 
She looks down at her delicate hand. "*Oh*. I’m sorry.”  
Her meadow green eyes well up, and she looks dangerously close to crying.  
Alright, maybe I’ve pushed this far enough. I dial it back just a little. “Hey,” I say gently, my voice firmer. “It wasn’t your fault. Don’t worry.”  
Nodding, she swallows hard and hands me the gauze. I wipe the blood away carefully, making sure to angle my hand so she can’t see the already disappeared wound. I keep my movements quiet and controlled so it can settle her nerves.  
Then she hands me the rolled gauze, but just as I start wrapping it, she reaches out, stopping me.  
“Let me do it,” she says softly. “I promise I won’t hurt you. I’ll be careful.”  
“You couldn’t hurt me even if you tried, Little Dove.”
She doesn’t say anything, but her worry radiates through me like a trembling string as she works on my hand. She’s more genuinely caring than anyone I’ve ever met. So fucking resilient… I can’t quite wrap my head around it.
“Done,” she mutters, taking her hands from mine.
“Aren’t you going to kiss it to make it better?” I ask, the corners of my mouth turning up.
She rolls her charming eyes. “I believe the words you were looking for were *thank you.*” 
This time, I open a smile. “Thank you, my Little Dove,” I start saying. She’s so short that even with me sitting down, we’re almost eye to eye. “But it should be the other way around. I mean, I should be the one taking care of you.”
“Why?”  
“Because it is the reason I was put on the Earth.” 
Absentmindedly, she starts to caress my bandaged hand. “That’s a really cheesy line, Ethan,” she whispers hoarsely with a cute smile. 
On the inside, hope soars in me. 
I wet my lips. My heartbeat skips. “Might be cheesy, but it’s the truth. I mean it, Little Dove.”
“Ethan... Just drop it. I told you, I’m choosing me. I won’t accept being your second choice again,” Alicent says, and I can taste her anger and sadness in my mouth, even though she doesn’t express it in her face. I want to hit myself for ever making her feel that way.
She tries to let go of my hand, but I hold hers. If it's up to me I'll never let go of her hand again.
“But that’s the thing, Little Dove. From now on, you will realize that you come first with me.”
Her green gaze shifts from our joined hands to my eyes. “Except for my family, I’ve never come first with anyone.” 
I cup her cheek. “And that’s a fucking crime. Because you deserve to be cherished. Pampered. *Claimed*. To have nothing to worry about but pleasing your mate.” 
She snorts, then giggles, and I delight in the sound. 
“And that would be you,” she says with a smile. “So you think that's all I want? To only worry about pleasing my mate?” She says the word ‘mate’ like it’s some ridiculous, absurd idea, her tone dripping with disbelief. 
I feel that it’s exactly what she wants, though, because it’s what I want as well, and she’s my other half.
I grin. “It should be.” 
She rolls her eyes again, but she is more amused than anything else. My arrogance may be out of control. But it is part of what I am.
“Mom? What are you doing?”
The boy’s voice cuts through the moment we’re having like a knife. 
Az stands in the doorway, his frame tense, a backpack hanging off one shoulder. Next to him, my niece looks at us with curiosity wide-eyed, though she stays silent.
His footsteps echo against the polished floor as he strides toward us, my niece trailing beside him. They must have just gotten home from school.
Little Dove stiffens, taking a half step back just enough to put distance between us. Her face slips from my grasp, but her fingers stay wrapped around mine, not letting go completely. 
“Hey, buddy!” Her voice is warm. “How was your first day back?” 
Az’s sharp green eyes are locked onto our joined hands, his frown deepening.  
Little Dove clears her throat and lifts our hands slightly as if offering evidence. “Um, Ethan got hurt when he grabbed the knife that slipped out of my hand.”
“What?”
“He saved my foot—”
Oh, fuck. *Noo*!
I subtly shake my head at him, a warning. But his glare doesn’t waver. He’s staring straight at his mother now. “He can’t get hurt by that.”
“Son, you’re being rude.”
“Mom, Ethan. Isn’t. Hurt.”
My jaw ticks. Little pest.