already knew after this short while that he’d lay down his life for Gabriela and Ana, but more importantly, that he would sacrifice anything to make them happy, to ensure they never felt so hopeless, so terrified, so broken again.
“You don’t need to thank me,” Broxen said. He stepped closer to Gabriela and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently steering her toward the bed. “Sit.”
She stiffened, holding herself in place, and tears spilled down her cheeks. “But you saved her, Mason. You got her out of there. Without you, she—”
“Sit, Gabriela.” He pushed a little more firmly, trying to remain mindful of how small she was, of the immense strength disparity between them. He never wanted to hurt her; he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself even if he were to harm her by accident.
She offered no resistance this time, and when the backs of her legs bumped the bed, she dropped down to sit on its edge. She stared at him the whole time with big, dark, beautiful eyes that were currently red and bloodshot.
Broxen frowned down at her pants. There were ice crystals clinging to the fabric around the hems and over her shins, and smears of ash on her thighs. Kneeling down, he cupped her calf with one hand, lifted her foot off the floor, and peeled her sock—which was soaking wet and partially frosted itself—off her dainty foot. The skin beneath was pale and damp and freezing.
“She’s safe,” he said as he repeated the process with her other foot. “You are safe. Don’t think about what could have happened. She’s still here. You’re still here.” He lowered his hands to her ice-cold feet and wrapped his fingers around them. He slowly massaged them, willing warmth back into her flesh. “You would have found a way…but you didn’t have to. I was there for you. For Ana.”
Taking care with his claws, he rubbed her soles with his thumbs, working his way up from her arches to her small toes and then back down to her heels. He’d never seen such delicate feet before; each of hers was smaller than his hand. Were he not careful, were he not gentle, he could easily crush them. It once again reaffirmed how much larger and stronger Broxen was than his female—his female who was currently freezing.
She needed to get out of her wet clothing before she could truly warm up, but he could not go that far. Not yet. He brought her feet together, covered them with his hands as fully as possible, and leaned down, releasing a deep, warm breath onto them. He glanced up and stilled when his gaze met hers.
Gabriela’s eyes were wide, and she was clutching the bedding on either side of her, the blanket wadded between her fingers. Her breath had quickened, causing her chest to rise and fall with her rapid breaths. Broxen’s gaze dipped. The outlines of her nipples were visible through the thin fabric of her pajama shirt.
The muscles low in his belly tightened, and his cock pulsed. That quickly, he remembered his hunger for her. His craving. His lust. And the way she was looking down at him, with that mix of surprise and anticipation, only made him want her more.
Yet as arousing as this moment was—as sensual as him kneeling before her, caressing her bare feet was—he could allow himself no enjoyment of it. His female had suffered greatly tonight in more ways than one. He would not take advantage of that suffering. He would claim Gabriela as his own, but it would be when she was of clear mind.
“Mason…” Gabriela whispered.
The door to the bathroom opened, and Ana stepped out, startling Broxen and Gabriela. They turned toward her. Broxen’s shirt dwarfed the kit, hanging well past her knees, and his shorts were as long as pants to her. Her hair was wet, hanging around her shoulders, and her face was clean of the soot.
She raised her bandaged hand. “I accidently got it wet when I was washing my hair.”
“Oh.” Gabriela frowned. “Um, we could—”
“I’ll take care of it,” Broxen said, gently setting Gabriela’s feet on the floor. His fingers briefly lingered on her skin. He longed to touch her more, to caress her, hold her… But he knew he couldn’t. That time hadn’t yet come. And right now, Ana needed him. “Take your shower, Gabriela. I will help Ana, and she can help me change the bedding.”
Gabriela stared down at him, a crease forming between her brows. “Are