Rapture

Cleanse

Gulping down on my spit, I face away from him and turn in the tub. I wince even from the slightest contact of the hot water against the open claw-cuts on my back.

"Cease with the resistance. Let the water cleanse the dirt of the werewolf."

My shoulders tense in response to his command, knuckles gripping tight on the rims of the bathtub. That would burn like hell.

"What does it matter? His claws drew blood. Next moon the curse will be upon me."

A rasp of a chuckle sounds from him in reply.

"The curse cannot touch you. Even the goddess of the moon won't dare intervene. You are mine alone."

An electric chill slithers quick up my spine, making the hairs stand on the back of my neck.

His hands fall on my shoulders. In an instant, I feel the tension melt under his palms.

His fingers clasp gently into the muscle above my collarbones. I twist in pain as his fingertips dig in first. Then the defenses of my body crack and drip to the odd warmth his touch radiates through me.

A breath of relaxation escapes me, my back easing into the support of his hands.

He shifts his palms to my nape, and puts my back under the tub's surface.

Hot water pours in my wounds, and my scream rings like bells inside the tree.

I try to jump back up, but the pressure of his fingertips above my collarbones renders me immobile.

A pulse of the sun-like heat spreads from his hands through my chest.

The odd pleasure gives a window of clarity through the pain. I glance down to see his razor nails resting like feathers on top of my skin. Reflecting golden light.