Chapter 71

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| RED'S POV |


"You can see him now," the man emerged from Nicholas's room, his role as the pack doctor explained to me by Brian, Nicholas's Beta. Nicholas had been in a deep slumber for nearly twenty-four hours, and the agonizing silence around Reyes had been suffocating me from within.

Was this the unbearable ache of almost losing someone you loved?

Love...

"Thank you," I murmured to the man, his departure marking my entrance into the room. As I stepped inside, a heavy sigh escaped my lips, my throat constricting with a mingling of anticipation and trepidation. There he stood, near the window, his broad, bare back exposed for my eyes to behold. My gaze trailed over the intricate tattoos that adorned his skin, their artistry colliding with the brutal scars inflicted by the Dark Lord.

It was a sight both hauntingly terrifying and achingly beautiful.

Drawing closer, my hand reached out, trembling as it made contact with his back. Despite his coldness, he remained unaffected by my touch. "Does it hurt?" I whispered, my fingertips delicately tracing the marks, cautiously avoiding the deeper cuts that had been stitched up.

"No," he responded, his gaze evading mine.

"Did the doctor provide any ointment?" His nod confirmed my question. My eyes scanned the dimly lit room, and I spotted a small container on the bedside table. Withdrawing my hand from his skin, I moved toward the bed. "Sit down, let me apply it for you," I urged, my words finally catching his attention. Weariness etched his features, a faint frown gracing his lips.

"Red, I'm alr-"

"You don't get to tell me that, not after witnessing the state you were in!" I lashed out, my voice filled with a mix of worry and frustration. His lips parted, taken aback by my outburst, but he remained silent.

"So... please," I swallowed hard, my voice softening, "Sit... down." The room enveloped us in silence, save for the thunderous pounding of my heart. Relief washed over me as I heard the sound of his footsteps, signaling his compliance. He settled onto the bed, and once again, I was confronted with his wounded bare back.

I unscrewed the lid of the ointment container, carefully applying a small amount to my fingertips. As my touch grazed his damaged skin, he winced and let out a low curse. "Sorry, I'll be more careful," I stammered, fighting back the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. Though darkness veiled us, I sensed his nod of acknowledgment.

With renewed determination, I resumed the task of applying the cream, now proceeding with extra caution. After a while, he broke the silence, "Where should I start?" My hand instinctively paused, my focus shifting from his back to his profile.

"From the beginning," I responded, understanding the weight of his words.

"Very well, do you remember when we first met?" he inquired, a warmth spreading across my face as memories flooded my mind, even as my fingers continued their soothing motions.

"Of course," I replied, a soft smile gracing my lips.

"It all started-"

"Not like this," I interrupted, a sudden urgency in my voice.

"Why?" Confusion tinged his words.

"I... I want to see you," I blurted out, the fear of sounding foolish momentarily forgotten.

"No," he sighed, his voice carrying a mix of resignation and apprehension.

"Why?" I questioned, my own confusion taking hold.

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