EYES OF FIRE AND ICE

Chapter Sixty-Nine

The sealed condom packet remains on the shelf, forgotten after Valen's composure snapped. He pulled out of her before he tipped over the edge, and the pair both panted their disdain towards him not staying inside of her. But then Valen's head reared back in realisation, brows furrowed as he muttered, almost in disbelief, "I'm infertile."

Alia's jaw dropped, stunned at his revelation. Valen's eyes met hers, and she could see his mind beginning to spiral. "I-I—" he shook his head and her feet quickly found the floor, knees almost buckling. His hands gripped his hair as he turned around, white knuckles visible to her weakened body. "I'm sorry, I... I didn't— I—" his voice wavered, panic gripping his muscles as his body rippled with tension.

Alia gently touched his back, noting his quickened breaths, and she moved around his body to stand before him. Her hands found his troubled face, green eyes meeting gold. "I don't care about children," she reassured, voice steady. "I don't need them. I only need you." Fear gripped his gaze, thoughts of her discarding their pairing at the forefront of his mind. Alia could see it in the way his body trembled, and her grip on his face tightened. "I don't need them," she growled, teeth clenched and eyes black. "They mean nothing to me if I can't have you."

Not once has she ever had the desire to bear children, and she wasn't going to start now.

At present, Alia's finger brushes against one of the red scratches on his skin whilst Valen washes her scent off his body. He told her that he didn't want other wolves picturing her in an intimate position, jealousy gripping his tone. "Those thoughts are mine to bear, and I'll be sure to gouge out the eyes of any wolf who thinks otherwise." His words made her flush, noting the evident gathering of his scent at her hips, neck, and everywhere between her thighs.

Valen releases the tension within his neck, body clean as he peers over his shoulder at her. "That's not a scar," he murmurs, brows furrowed. "What's claimed your attention?"

Alia looks up at him, sheepish as she whispers, "They're not healing." Guilt pangs her chest, hating the knowledge of harming his skin.

Valen turns and guides her under the shower head. She closes her eyes and leans her forehead against his chest when he begins to comb his fingers through her hair. "What isn't healing?" He grabs the lavender-scented shampoo bottle she reached for previously and guides her back away from the pouring water. The creamy liquid is cold against her scalp, but Valen's proximity warms her instantly. "Describe it to me."

Alia exhales deeply when Valen begins to massage the shampoo into her hair, eyes closing as her hands move to his back. "My nails," she sighs, "they've left marks on your back."

He pauses, and then he chuckles. His chest vibrates underneath her skin and she can feel her cheeks warming. "Baby, you always leave marks on my back."

Alia's fingers curl against his lower spine, cheeks heating even further. Her heart begins to race, skin warming with desire.

Baby.

He called her baby.

Valen hums, pleased. "So you like it when I call you that." He guides her underneath the stream again, fingers gently washing the shampoo out of her hair. "Or would you prefer another name?"

She tilts her head back, eyes closed. He places a kiss on her forehead, long fingers combing through her hair. "I like that one," she whispers.

He smiles, eyes softening. "I like it too."

Her fingers move up along his spine as she gently pulls her body against his. One of his arms wraps around her waist, pulling her closer as he reaches for the shower gel.