The Nightmare (The Mist #2) - Regine Abel Page 0,74

complain about such a sexy beast wanting to exclusively belong to her?

“All right, then. I will apply it on you, and Dr. Chandra can supervise to make sure I’m doing it right, okay?” I said, glancing at Anika for her approval. She nodded.

“Yes,” Zain replied, satisfied.

My chest tightened watching him clench his teeth through the pain as he lay back down. It was no wonder, seeing the network of black and blue stripes criss-crossing his chest and legs where Tobin’s tendrils had whipped Zain. Other round bruises indicated where he’d likely been punched. It was a miracle he hadn’t sustained any serious injury.

“How is he doing?” I asked Anika while beginning to apply the ointment.

“I was about to ask the same,” Thomson said.

Zain emitted a soft moan that I assumed to be of relief as the cooling effect of the cream no doubt slightly dulled the pain.

“He’s in a remarkably good shape, all things considered,” Anika said in a reassuring tone. “He has a mild concussion, whiplash and, as you can see, some severe bruising. Thankfully, there are no fractures or broken bones, and no indications of internal bleeding. I’ve given him some Tylenol for the headache and a muscle relaxant to ease some of the pain in his neck and upper back. The cream should be applied on the bruises three times a day.”

She turned to look at Thomson with a stern expression on her face.

“Zain needs complete rest for the next few days,” Anika said. “No physical exertion of any kind for him until I give the greenlight.”

To my relief, Thomson didn’t argue.

By the time I finished applying the cream, Zain had dozed off. We agreed to transfer him to my quarters so that I could take care of him. This threw a bit of a wrench in my plans. Aside from the mundane tasks of going home to open the shutters and water my plants, I needed to deal with my employer and my patients. It would all have to wait until tomorrow. Thankfully, as per the law, the day before and after the Mist were official holidays to allow people to go to their safe house before the curfew began, and to return to the city for those who sheltered in remote places.

For the remainder of that day, Zain zonked in and out of consciousness. A part of me believed he was sleeping so much to enter the dream world where he was stronger and healed faster. However, now that the Mist had ended, Zain was almost like a human. Only a fraction of his consciousness could enter the realm of dreams without flat out killing his human vessel.

While awake, my man barely talked. I didn’t know how to interpret his reaction. Zain clearly wanted my presence, and especially for me to touch him, but not in a sexual way. He craved for me to gently rub his back in a soothing motion, scratch his scalp, or caress his hair. It took me too long to realize my Nightmare wanted to be comforted, although I doubted he realized it.

Until today, he had never truly experienced pain. It sucked that his initiation should have been at such an extreme degree. But, beyond the physical distress, I had begun to suspect that the battle had mentally scarred him as well. Over the following days, Zain displayed clear signs of a depression.

Although his bruises healed at an incredible speed, my man continued to sleep an unusually high number of hours. He, whose appetite exceeded mine, dispassionately munched on his meals, leaving more than half in his plate. He was irritable and aggressive with everyone, but me. However, he no longer playfully taunted me or pursued me with his sexual advances. And yet, every night, he insisted on cuddling with me—chastely—despite his bruises.

The only thing that retained his full attention during his short waking hours were the combat and self-defense videos Tate had provided him to at least learn the theory until he was able to resume physical training. Every time I tried to get Zain to open up, he would change the subject or say all was well. As much as it pained me, I knew better than to pressure him. All I could do was let him know that I was here, and that he could talk to me about anything when he felt ready.

The few hours I had to leave the base to consult with my patients seemed to depress him even more. However, even without him,