The Dragons' Bathhouse: A Reverse Harem Enemies-to-Lovers Soulmate Romance

27

She awoke again, surprised at the feeling of something cool on her back. The touch of a soaked cloth brushing over her skin. Fingers glided deftly over the sore spots, gently wiping at her skin. She could smell the medicine in the air, spicy and herbal with a sweet floral tang.

There was the distinct sound of water dripping into the bowl as her caretaker squeezed the liquid from the cloth. The person went back to work on her skin. The medicine that spilt from the soft fabric had a numbing quality to it that made the pain withdraw from her skin. She sighed, relaxing into his touch, letting a soft moan of pleasure escape her lips.

"Good?" The voice above her hummed, deep and velvety in its baritone.

A hand stroked her hair, gentle pats that sent a rush of delight through her body. The cloth continued working over her back, his touch gentle as he slid his palm up to the nape of her neck. A warm finger swirled over her skin, dancing over the swollen bits, and she shivered in response, her skin oddly sensitive to his touch.

"You're healing well. I'm glad. I'm glad, Eden. My Eden."

She must have fallen asleep again because she stirred awake to a different scene. Her body was propped against the cool skin of a man, forcing her to sit upright. He brushed her hair out from her face, pulling it back away from her unseeing eyes with a gentleness that baffled her confused body. She could smell something savoury in the air and her stomach growled in protest.

"Are you awake?" he asked, his pretty voice rumbling against her skin, but she couldn't see him. She nodded weakly, but even that hurt her and she made a soft noise of protest. The pain had ebbed away into a soft ache, but she still felt incredibly tired, her body frazzled and weak.

"You need to eat." The second voice called from before her and she furrowed her brows. "You've been sleeping for too long, you need to keep your strength up." Something prodded at her lips, and she opened her mouth in an automatic response.

Chicken soup.

It tasted clear and savoury, with the gentle burn of ginger and the zest of lemons that seemed to awaken her senses. Imbued with the soft aroma of simmered vegetables and herbs, it was flavourful but yet not too overpowering in its rich, subdued goodness.

It reminded her of her mother's broth when she was sick with a cold. It reminded her of toasting her feet in the fire as she watched her mother chop vegetables, a pot of chicken soup boiling at the stove. It was comforting and warm, filled with the tenderness that the person feeding her seemed to convey.

He was sweet about it, feeding her. The metal spoon that prodded her lips were ever so gentle in their placement, he was very careful not to give her too much or too little. And when the liquid spilt from the corners of her lips, he dabbed it away with a napkin. His actions warmed her heart, and she found herself desperately wanting to see the people caring for her. But she was consumed by the darkness. Before she knew it, she was falling asleep to the soft hums of the man that held her in his arms.

And in their arms, her heart trembled and melted from the fire that burned in her soul.

She rose again, this time wide-awake and much stronger than before. The sharp pain was almost completely gone, replaced by an ache in her bones and her fingers could finally move freely. Her eyes felt heavy, too heavy, and her hands moved to touch her face.

Stone.

The skin above her eyes was smooth and cool, like the tiled marble of the floor. It started just below her brows and came up to the bridge of her nose, completely sealing her eyes shut. It was like a strip of fabric over her eyes and it poured over her skin, ending at the edges of her face, where her hairline began. She scratched at the surface, trying to pry out the stone, but nothing happened and she only succeeded in making her skin bleed.

The scent of blood, rusty and sweet in the air, must have alerted them because there was a rustle of fabric and the patter of feet. Her body sinking into the bed as additional weight appeared upon the mattress. She gasped, her heart thumping from the sudden scare.

"Eden! Are you okay?" The rough voice called, pulling her into his arms and gold bloomed in her chest. The prince. Her mind reminded her. A prince. She furrowed her brows searching her memory for more information but nothing came up. There seemed to be a wall of stone in her head, and it stung a little when she dug too deep.

"You're bleeding," the second voice spoke, a sweeter, higher voice. His brother. Her mind answered her. Twin princes. The sky dragon princes of the Heavens. The memory of her manager, the hydra, speaking of the princes flashed in her head. She furrowed her brows, licking her drying lips as her breath escaped her in ragged pants. Why was she here with the princes?

"Does it hurt? Your eyes?" the rougher voice spoke out and her mind seemed to know him. Kaizel. Then the other one was...Keegan. Her heart twisted at the memory of their names, and she was confused at the twinge of pain.

"I'll heal you, okay? But don't touch it—"

"I-I can't see," she whispered, and the two men seemed to freeze, inhaling sharply at her words. "W-why can't I see? What happened?"

"Y-you don't remember?" Keegan murmured, his voice was filled with his shock.

"What about us, do you remember us?"

"Y-you're the princes. The sky dragons?" Eden furrowed her brows. "The people called you both 'your highnesses'. You must be the princes. W-why am I here?" She swallowed thickly, trying to shake herself out of their grasps. "I have to go—"

"You can't! You're still injured."

"Stay. Stay and heal."

"But, I—I'm not a spirit or a god. I'm a human, we're not supposed to be here unless we're five-star—"

"You're allowed to be here, trust me," Keegan begged. He held her hand again and the familiar golden liquid flowed into her with his touch. It seemed to be the only thing she could see, for whenever he touched her the gold sparked behind her eyelids, flickering to life.

"Do you need to get up? Do you want something to eat?" Kaizel asked.

"W-water, please?"

Kaizel brought it to her. She knew it was him because he was the warmer twin, but she didn't know how she knew that fact. The fact that Keegan was cold and Kaizel was warm. His fingers were hot against hers and she tried to take the cup from him, but he refused to let go. His palm wrapping over the glass to hold it steady.

"I'll help you hold it," he spoke, and she cupped his hands as he gently brought it to her lips. The cool liquid sloshed in her mouth, satisfying a thirst she had not known that she had. She gulped it down eagerly, pulling at his hands, wanting more water to quench her thirst.

"Slow down. Drink it slowly," Keegan soothed, gently patting her back. "We have all the time in the world."

And they did.

They didn't seem to mind when she stumbled like a baby lamb with her newborn legs, her muscles were weak from underuse. They held her, leading her in her darkness, encouraging her to use her muscles. In the darkness, she could only grip tightly on their arms, holding them as if they were her lifeline. And she felt awful about it. As their lesser, she should be the one serving them, but they insisted on helping her personally.

"Don't you feel the gold?" Kaizel said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. He held her then, his hand on hers, his fingers laced with hers. And she did feel it, it made her chest warm and the ache in her back disappear.

"You'll heal better with our touch, so stay. Stay and let us heal you." Keegan would take her other hand, completing the gold that danced in her heart. It was a roaring fire that burned in the blizzard. A mug of hot chocolate on a cold night. The press of her body against the warm comforters in the bed.

In the darkness, the days and nights blended together, and the twins were her only light in her world.