Desired By Three Alphas; Fated To One - Chapter 254

Chapter 254: Strange Scent
Nathan’s POV

She lowered her head until our foreheads touched. Her breath was unsteady, warm against my mouth.

“You’re going to tear your stitches, you idiot,” she finally whispered, her voice rough, but there was no teasing, only concern—deep, authentic concern that melted away the last of my control.

“Let me worry about that.” I smirked, and then I leaned in to kiss her. Our lips sealed, and we kissed passionately, a desperate, fierce collision that had been building since the moment I first saw her naked again. My hand grabbed her ass cheeks, pulling her hard against me as she moved instinctively on my lap, water slicking our skin together.

My cock hardened instantly beneath the rushing water. The throbbing ache of my desire easily outpaced the dull pain from the stitches in my side. In here, feeling the curve of her body, smelling her arousal, and hearing her breathless moan against my mouth, I still wanted to take her completely. The need was primal, roaring past logic and pain.

I deepened the kiss, staking my claim, but her hand found the wound on my side, not forcefully, but with a gentle, questioning pressure. The slight wince that escaped me made her pull back slightly, her eyes wide, full of regret.

“No, Nathan, stop,” she breathed, resting her forehead against mine again. Her hands moved, pressing against my chest to create a fraction of space, but she didn’t leave. “We can’t. Not like this. Not while you’re hurt.”

I wanted to curse, to rage against the injustice of it. I wanted to tell her that I needed this—needed to bury myself inside her.

“I need you, Hailee,” I rasped, the words raw, stripped of command or dominance. They were simply the truth. My forehead was slick with sweat and bath water. “Just for a minute. Let me hold you close. Let me…”

I trailed off, unable to complete the sentence. She knew what I meant. She moved her hips slightly—just once—a small, involuntary grind that sent a white-hot spike of need through me, making my muscles clench. She felt the heavy, insistent weight of my cock pressing against her abdomen.

Her eyes searched mine, a mix of matching desire and stubborn resolve. “I want you too, more than anything. But I won’t be the reason you bleed again,” she whispered firmly. She shifted slightly off my lap, just enough so that she was braced against my thighs, but her weight was supported by the ground.

Her hands moved from my chest, circling my waist, sliding down just far enough to feel the heat of my skin. She was holding me, keeping me steady, denying the desperate, physical release I craved, but offering a different kind of solace.

“You just faced death, Nathan,” she murmured, her voice steadying. “Let’s not ruin the healing by tearing up your already healed wound.” She looked up at me, a soft, heartbreaking challenge in her eyes. “Show me your control. Show me you can be here, with me without demanding everything right now.”

I let out a shuddering breath. It was the hardest command I had ever received, but it was one I had to obey. She wasn’t just my desire; she was my sanctuary, and I couldn’t jeopardize her trust or my recovery. I clenched my jaw, fighting the frantic pulse hammering through my body.

I let my hands fall away from her firm flesh, resting them instead on her hips, holding her steady. I closed my eyes, tilting my head back under the warm stream, and focused only on the sound of her breath, the pressure of her hands, and the feel of her warm skin against mine. Control. I was an Alpha. I had control.

“Fine,” I bit out, the word rough and forced. It hurt—far more than the arrow that had ripped through my ribs—because every part of me wanted to pull her onto my lap and lose myself in her completely. But she was right. So I nodded, slow and tight.

Her body relaxed a little when she saw me agree, and she pressed a small kiss to my jaw—a soft, grounding kiss that reminded me she wasn’t pulling away from me… only protecting me.

We washed in silence after that.

A quiet, peaceful silence.

Hailee dipped the sponge into the warm water and slowly, carefully washed my shoulders. Her touch was steady, gentle, patient. She avoided my bandages as if she had memorized every injured inch of me. Her hand trailed down my arm, squeezing lightly at my wrist.

“You’re healing fast,” she murmured.

“It’s only because you’re here,” I replied without thinking.

She paused.

Her fingers stilled against my skin.

Her breath hitched.

But she didn’t move away.

Instead, she washed the last of the soap from my back, her hands lingering just a moment too long before she finally drew away.

“Turn around,” she said softly.

I shifted slowly, wincing a little as the injury tugged. She scooted forward to help, her hands steadying me by my waist. When I finally faced her, she reached up and brushed wet strands of hair from my forehead.

“This part is easy,” she said quietly. “You only need to sit still.”

I nodded, letting her pour warm water over my shoulders. The steam curled around us, making the room feel smaller, more private. She reached for my face and washed it carefully—her thumb brushing my cheek, her fingers moving across my jaw.

The sponge dropped to her lap after a moment. Her hands moved without it.

Skin on skin.

Warm. Gentle. Slow.

I closed my eyes.

It felt like peace.

Actual peace.

Something I had not felt in years.

When she leaned forward and rested her palm against my uninjured shoulder, I opened my eyes again. Her gaze met mine.

“You okay?” she whispered.

I nodded.

Not trusting my voice.

Not trusting my control.

She stood from the water carefully, water sliding down her skin. For a heartbeat, I forgot the steam. Forget the pain. Forgot the world outside that room.

She reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself.

Then she took another towel and held it out for me.

“Come on,” she said gently. “Let’s get you dressed before you catch a cold.”

I snorted. “I’m a werewolf, Hailee.”

“And you almost died,” she snapped softly. “Don’t test me.”

I held up both hands. “Fine.”

She helped me out of the water, her hands holding my arm steady. When my foot touched the cool stone floor, a wave of dizziness hit me. I sucked in a breath, closing my eyes.

“Sit,” she ordered instantly.

I obeyed. She knelt in front of me, towel in her hands, and dried my legs gently. There was nothing seductive about the motion—only care. Real care. The kind I had dreamed of from her without letting myself admit it.

When she was done, she handed me a clean pair of pants and helped me ease them up without straining my ribs. Next came a simple shirt—loose enough to avoid the wound. She crept closer and lifted my arm to slide the sleeve through.

“You’re staring,” she murmured.

I blinked. “Am I?”

“Yes.” She smirked lightly. “Do you want me to cover your eyes?”

I laughed—actually laughed.

“I was just thinking,” I said quietly, “what it would be like if we had this every day.”

She froze.

Not a big freeze.

A small one.

But I saw it.

My heart kicked hard.

But she didn’t run.

She didn’t pull away.

She just said softly, “We’re not talking about that right now.”

I nodded once. “I know.”

I wasn’t rushing her. I couldn’t.

Whatever she could give me, even just these three days… I’d take it.

She tied the last string of my shirt and said, “There.”

I stood carefully, testing my weight. The pain was there, sharp but bearable. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Her eyes held mine a moment longer than necessary.

Then she moved to grab her own clothes—but halfway through pulling on her dress, she swayed a little.

I frowned. “Hailee?”

She blinked.

Then she steadied herself by holding onto the wall.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Just stood up too fast.”

My instincts screamed.

I moved toward her, ignoring the pinch in my ribs.

My hand caught her elbow before she could brush past me.

“Hey… look at me,” I said gently.

She did.

Her pupils were slightly dilated.

Her skin was warm—not the warmth of steam, but something else.

And underneath her usual sweet scent, something faint drifted into my nose. Something different. Something… strange.

My eyes narrowed.

“Hailee,” I said slowly, “what’s going on?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, Nathan. I just—”

And then she swayed again.

This time, she would’ve fallen if I hadn’t caught her by the waist.

I held her tight, my heart slamming hard.

Her hands gripped my arms, her breath unsteady. “I don’t… know why I feel… lightheaded.”

I inhaled again.

There it was.

Her scent.

Mixed with something foreign.

Wrong.

Like someone—or something—had been close to her.

Something that did not belong on her skin.

“Hailee,” I said, my voice low, serious, “this scent… it wasn’t here before.”

She looked up at me, confused. “What scent?”

I swallowed hard, dread prickling my spine.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But it’s not yours… and it’s not mine.”

Her breathing quickened.

“Nathan… what does that mean?”

I held her closer, gripping her firmly as another wave of dizziness shook her knees.

“I don’t know yet,” I whispered, heart pounding. “But something’s wrong.”

Her fingers trembled against my chest.

“Nathan… I feel—”

Then her eyes fluttered.

And she went still.

Right there in my arms.

I caught her before her body could fall, lifting her gently, fear crashing through me in a cold, sharp wave.

“Hailee?” I whispered.

No answer.

“Hailee!”

Silence.

Except for the faint, strange scent still clinging to her skin.