Roman

IX

The next couple of days, Roman's been putting up more guards, training more. He'll be out from dawn to after dark, coming home sweaty and exhausted. He'll greet me with a kiss on my forehead before going upstairs and going to bed. I don't blame him, he's been working more than any of us.

Tonight is a little different though. As always, I wait with Aria in the living room, talking about mindless things. When Roman walks through the front door he's covered in blood, barely able to keep himself upright.

"Roman, what happened?" I ask frantically, hurrying to him.

"Rogue-he was alone, but he was stronger. I barely beat him," he tells me as I help him to the couch.

"Where are you hurt?" I question, looking him over.

"I'm okay, Lena, I'll be healed by morning, I just-need to lie here," he replies.

"Roman, where are you hurt?" I demand.

"Just my ribs, he got a good bite out of my shoulder," he tells me.

"Aria, get me some warm water and a wash cloth," I say.

She nods, hurrying off.

He chuckles, "I'm fine, Lena, calm down."

I shake my head, "let me see."

He sighs, sitting carefully, pulling his shirt over his head, wincing when he lifts his arms.

"My gosh, Roman, he couldn't have been a normal rogue," I state, looking at his black and blue ribs. His shoulder isn't bleeding bad, but it had been.

Aria returns with the items, and I wet the cloth before pressing it on his shoulder.

He winces, growling a little, "careful."

"Sorry," I apologize.

He nods, laying his head back down. I clean his shoulder gently, then wipe the blood off of his arm where it bled down.

"Are your ribs broken?" I ask him, reaching to touch them.

He grabs my wrist gently, "don't touch, but no."

I sigh, placing the bowl on the table, noticing the absence of Aria.

"Lena, stop worrying, I'm fine," he says softly. I turn back and face him, sitting on the ground next to the couch.

"You could've died, you know?" I ask.

"But I didn't-"

"But you could've!" I interrupt. "If he would've gotten higher than your shoulder, you would've been dead, so, yes, I'm going to worry. If one can almost take you down, what would a pack of them do?"

He takes my hand in his, "I don't want you to worry, okay? I'm handling it, and you're always going to be safe for as long as I'm alive."

I take my hand out of his and he frowns, "I wish you wouldn't say things like that."

"Why?" He asks.

"Because you don't really mean it, it's your wolf talking," I tell him.

"And what if it isn't? What would you do?" He replies sincerely.

I shrug, "I don't know."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, making my fingers itch to do so.

"I wish-I wish I wasn't so confused, so backwards. I wish I were the type of mate Simon is to Aria. I wish I could give you that," he tells me.

I lean me head on his good shoulder, "you are, you just don't know it yet."