Inside was a large hearth, a spacious chair, an expansive window, a desk with decades of dust to match the bookshelves, and a couch where Ronan sat. A table next to him had a pile of fresh fabric for bandaging.
He looked over at Rem. His elbows rested on his knees, his bare, wounded hands massaging the other.
She stood there, trapped in her tangled nerves.
Come on, Rem Walker. She approached the Alpha, his unreadable gaze locked onto her, closely observing her as if to say ‘what on Earth are you doing in here?’
She got on her knees in front of him, the warmth of the crackling fire soothing her, and presented the jar. Rem looked into his pale blue eyes that reminded her of a bright, winter morning. Their solitude only amplified how strong his presence was. His clenched jaw accentuated the faint stubble on his cheeks.
Wait, what did Nia tell me to say?
"Fyrir sárin," Rem said when the words struck her.
Ronan's expression did not change, not even to blink. The only movement was the slow rise and fall of his chest until he gently nodded. She was slightly disappointed, as she had hoped for more. Perhaps he thought it rude to turn her away.
She pressed on, despite it all. She owed him this, at the bare minimum, for everything he had done for her.
He opened up his square hands; they were much larger than hers. They were red, bruised, and caked with dry blood. Bones and tendons were visible where fangs dug in. Actually, it already looked like his body was attempting to rebuild. She wondered if shifters had some ability to regenerate.Unless you're Marcus and lose an entire eye.
Reaching out, she placed the ointment on the largest wound on his left hand, gently massaging with both of hers.
I'm tending to an Alpha right now… In private.There was something profound about his muscled hands being in hers, his legs spread on either side of her.
The tension in her chest tightened when out of her peripheral, she noticed that he watched her. She worked the largest wound, and a low growl escaped the Alpha, relaxing his tensed hand once the ointment released its power.
When she figured she was finished, she grabbed some of the fresh linen and wrapped it around the wound, tying a small knot.
It was getting harder to ignore the way he watched her. Eventually, she couldn't stand it anymore. His bandaged hand was still in hers when she looked up.
Their gazes connected, the fire moving the shadows on his face.
Ronan was judging her, but for what, she didn't know.
I should say something.She thought the sentence over in her mind at least five times before saying in Icelandic, "Thank you... For," she stuttered as she fumbled over the correct word. "For all – for everything."
Again, his expression remained impassive. She wondered if she had done something wrong. Was this too bold on her end? Should she have let him take the lead rather than approach him like this? Was Nia mistaken?
His gaze began to trail her face. Through the smell of smoke and iron, she found his scent, and it beckoned her to come closer...
A knock on the door made Rem look down right away, her heart thrumming.
Ronan’s gaze rolled in the door's direction as he spoke in Icelandic. The candlelight from the hallway formed Jola's silhouette in the open doorway; their room only lit by the hearth. Rem pulled back and stared at the floor, forgetting that Jola was to make an appearance.
The Elder spoke in their native tongue and then caught Rem by surprise when she said, "So, Rem, I guess after Marcus, I should ask if everything is alright in here?"
"It's all fine," Rem said, thankful the dark room helped conceal her blush. “Thank you for asking,” she earnestly said.
Rem wasn’t sure what to do, so she remained on her knees and eyed his other arm,the veins protruding. She had no idea why she liked that detail so much, but all she could think about was that of his strength grabbing her…
Jola walked forward as she and Ronan spoke, the light from the hearth gently touching her face. The more they conversed, the more Rem felt like she was intruding on a private conversation. Her fingers fidgeted as she didn't know what to do, other than kneel. Maybe she should just leave the room?
Jola looked in Rem's direction.
"Did you catch any of that?" Jola asked.
Rem nearly laughed. "No, not really. It was too fast, and I barely know the language."
"Ah—I see. You'll stay and treat the rest of his injuries while he and I have a discussion."
