Out Of The Woods

Seven

"I-I fell asleep in the bathtub. I woke up to Johnathan reviving me." Ambrose flinches, hating that he was lying to Magnus. But he had to. He couldn't let anyone else get hurt.

"Master! You could have serious damage! Why the hell would you refrain from telling anyone? You could have died from complications and we would have been none the wiser!"

"I'm so sorry, I just didn't want to worry anyone," Ambrose averts his eyes, focusing on his labored breathing.

"Goddess," Magnus murmurs, rubbing his hands over his face. "Why isn't Johnathan here with you? Isn't he worried about you?"

"He is worried about me," Ambrose exclaims, nodding his head vigorously. "I told him to go back to his estate. I knew that I would be taken care of here."

Magnus purses his lips. Something felt off about this. But he knew to keep his mouth shut. It would only upset Ambrose more if he brought attention to it.

"May I?" Magnus asks instead, reaching out for the tie that held Ambrose's night-clothes together.

Ambrose nods hesitantly, allowing the Fae to tug on the tie, causing the silken fabric to loosen. The fabric slips from the boy's slender shoulders, pooling around his waist.

Ambrose shivers as the chilly air nips at his sensitive skin. And just as expected, there were no bruises on Ambrose's chest.

If Ambrose's wolf wasn't healing him as he was supposed to, then the bruises from when Ambrose was resuscitated would have still been present. But there was no sign of any kind of bruising.

Magnus bites his tongue, refraining from mentioning it. Instead, he focuses on healing Ambrose.

Magnus' powers were very limited. Once a Fae is exiled, their power slowly depleted with each time they called upon it. A Fae's power can only be restored if they are taken back into a Fae Kingdom.

Unfortunately, all exiled Fae lose their powers eventually. The amount of time they had left with their powers, depended on how much they called upon it.

Ambrose wasn't aware of that information, of course. As Magnus would do anything for his young master.

Magnus places his hand onto Ambrose's chest, feeling the warmth of the boy's skin. The beating of his heart beneath his fingertips.

Magnus' eyes flutter shut, his body tingling as his powers rush through him. Ambrose gasps, his back arching as his lungs beginning to burn. He grabs ahold of Magnus' hand, crying out as a sharp pain rips through his chest.

Ambrose's shallow breaths turn into deep inhales. He sobs in relief, taking in as much air as he possibly could.

Ambrose launches himself into Magnus' arms as soon as he's fully healed.

Magnus is quick to wrap his arms around Ambrose, resting his chin atop the boy's head.

"I worry about you, Master," Magnus murmurs, cradling the back of Ambrose's head with his hand. Carding his fingers through the soft blonde curls.

"It isn't your place to worry about me," Ambrose replies, breathing in Magnus' comforting scent as he nestled closer to the larger man.

"Of course it is. I have known you since you were a little pup. I've been there to help you each time you'd fallen, each scrape and bruise. I've witnessed each milestone of your life thus far. I care for you, and I never want to see you hurting."

Ambrose flushes, his cheeks turning a bright pink. He hurries his face into the crook of Magnus' neck.

"Master, I have something to confess." Magnus suddenly says, making Ambrose glance up at him in confusion.