EYES OF FIRE AND ICE

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Alia falters when the skin at Valen's mark begins to smart, feeling incomplete. It makes her adjust her neck to try and ease the discomfort, but it only manages to worsen. One moment, she has her sight set on indulging her desires, and the next her eyes sting and her chin trembles at the knowledge of not having Valen's scent on the area she needs it most. She suspects that the mental and physical fatigue of fighting and sitting in pain for hours is finally getting to her. She doesn't want to deal with it anymore, and Valen can see it in her watery eyes.

He frowns. His eyes trail down her body, lingering on areas where cuts and bruises mark her skin. The heat dissipates in his gaze, and instead, darkness fills them. A muscle in his jaw ticks after he tears his eyes off of her, injured body now standing before his.

"Come," he says, eyes on the double doors of the training hall. "I'll show you to the showers." His hands twitch and he shoves them into his trouser pockets, expression hardening. Alia wraps her arms around herself, breath hitching when she grazes broken ribs, and follows her mate without another word.

After they silently take an elevator to the fourth floor, Valen stops in the middle of a corridor and runs a hand down his face.

The floor is void of wolves, quiet and private. White, barren walls surround the pair, floor made of stone. Grey, steel doors line the walls with black scanners that require keycards to unlock them. This floor is for the Generals, and there's a similar floor in every other training centre. They carry offices and necessities to allow them to do their job from any location in the Pack.

A tense breath leaves the General before he turns around to face Alia. "Let me heal you," he says, white eyes flickering with frustration.

Alia's arms are still wrapped around herself when she closes the gap between them and rests her forehead on his chest. Her vision blurs and a few tears begin to spill down her cheeks, blood mixing with every teardrop. She bites her bottom lip in an attempt to stop a whimper from escaping, for her heart aches for him to hold her. She squeezes her eyes shut and breathes in his scent, desperate to have it back on her skin. "I need you to touch me," she pleads, voice shaking. "I can't bear it any longer."

Valen's hand grasps the bottom of her jaw, angling her head up to face him. Her reddening eyes meet his and it makes his own soften whilst he frowns. "How can I touch you when you're in pain?"

"I don't care about the pain," she snivels. "I only want you."

He shakes his head, frown deepening. "I care."

Alia looks at him, tears continuing to fall. She doesn't know what to do. The pain, the mental torment of being covered in repugnant scents, and the need to have him sate her desires is becoming all too much for her to bear.

Valen leans down, eyes boring into hers. Sternly, he repeats, "I. Care." His other hand moves to her face, thumb gently gliding across her lower lip. Alia flinches and sucks in a breath when he grazes her stinging wound. "So let me heal you."

Finally, Alia nods. Valen releases a breath and lets go of her jaw. He takes one of her wrists and leads her to one of the locked doors. Using his black keycard, he opens the door and closes it behind them. A large wooden desk, windowless grey walls, and a brown leather chair sit inside the warmly lit room, lights triggered by their entrance.

He keeps her in between him and the door whilst he rolls up one of his sleeves to his elbow. Alia has to look away when he raises a clawed finger and slices the skin of his inner forearm in two. Her teeth clamp painfully onto her lower lip, hating the sight of his bleeding.