Page 19 of Blood and Trouble

Footsteps echoed closer and, at the sound of the familiar gait, I clamped my hands on the edge of the tub. When Lycan rounded the corner with his hands in his pockets, I quickly averted my gaze to the floor, warmth flooding my cheeks, skin boiling with humiliation.

“Lycan, I’m sorry,” I said. “I know it’s your night off. I was just looking for my laptop. I left it on your kitchen counter, and I thought… I mean… I assumed you’d gone out. I didn’t think you’d be⁠—”

He clicked his tongue and came closer, kneeling down in front of me so we were eye-level.

“Look at me,” he said.

I firmly refused, focusing on the blood-smeared tile floor.

“Avalon.” He used a deep, authoritative voice that snaked down my spine and forced my gaze up to his. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“I shouldn’t have intruded,” I said. “That was careless. I don’t do careless. God, I’m such a⁠—”

“Stop that.” His tone grew harsh, almost angry. “Whatever you were about to call yourself, stop. I won’t hear it.”

His command unfurled something inside of me, some tightly wound place that needed an order to stop the behavior. I dipped my chin in silent agreement.

“Say you understand.” His hard tone sent a chill through my muscles.

“I understand,” I said.

“Now, let me see this foot.” He grabbed my ankle and stretched my leg out so he could examine the wound.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I can handle it. You should go back to your partner. I didn’t mean to cut your night short.”

“He left,” Lycan said.

“Left?” I balked. “Why? Because of me?”

“No, because of me,” Lycan replied. “It’s not deep enough for stitches. But we’ll want to clean this out and wrap it up. No heels for a few days, I’m afraid.”

I ignored his attention on my wound. “Because of you? That’s ridiculous. You shouldn’t be here. You should go get him. You deserve⁠—”

He cut me off by digging his phone out of his pocket and pressing a contact.

“Locust,” he said. “Bring a first aid kit to Ava’s suite. Everything’s fine, just a cut.”

He hung up and stood, going to the sink so he could wash his hands.

“Lycan,” I protested. “I’m fine. You don’t need to⁠—”

“I don’t need to do anything,” he said, his features tense, his jaw tight. “Now, shut up and sit still while I take care of you.”

I pursed my lips and pretended the swoop in my belly at his phrasing was just a result of the pain. Take care of you.

No one had ever taken care of me. Usually, it was my job to do the caring. When Maeve came home scraped up and hungover, I cleaned her up and made sure she had water. When Sol needed someone to help her find a way to screw over our older brother, I sat with her all night, digging through paperwork. When Guin told me to go to Europe and secure the funding we’d need to save our family business, I’d done it no questions asked.

“I didn’t know you were a doctor,” I teased.

He pulled a corner of his mouth up and turned off the faucet before wiping his hands on a clean towel. “I’m not. But everyone goes through a healer rotation at the homestead. I picked up a few things.”

“Healer rotation? The homestead has its own doctor?”

Locust appeared with the first-aid kit before he could answer.

“Damn, that looks like it hurts.” Locust tilted his dark head to the side, tanned skin wrinkling around his eyes as he winced.

“Thank you. Have someone clean up the mess out there,” Lycan said, nodding toward the hallway. “Then, you can go.”