Lyall comes back to the cave with as many branches as he can find. Then I tear my dress to dry the branches. We can't really dry them all off, so by the time we try to light them, the branches are still quite moist.

The rain is longer than we thought it would be and soon, darkness will descend upon us. I told Lyall earlier that the fire would attract wild animals to us. He only laughed at me, saying, "I'd like to see them try approaching me."

Sometimes I forget I am with the lycan king.

Using friction from stones, Lyall can create enough sparks that turn into a fire in the cave. His shirt is drenched with rainwater now so he takes them off and reveals his gorgeous–again, my wolf keeps putting words in my mind–torso in the dimly lit cave. He also takes off his pants, leaving him with only a boxer on his skin.

"Take off your dress," he says. The fire in front of him produces small red and orange sparks, which decorate his face like a renaissance painting.

Instinctively, I hug myself. "Wh–why?"

He looks tired when he says, "You're drenched, too, right? We should put our clothes on that boulder near the fire to dry them off. You're going to get sick wearing a soaked dress all night."

"B–but..." The problem is, I am not wearing any underwear. I ran away from my pack in my wolf form, which means I was naked. And when I woke up... "The person who put on my dress while I fainted didn't give me underwear..." It's so embarrassing having to say that I have nothing else on my body other than this flimsy beige dress.

"I was the one who put on the dress for you."

Lyall's answer makes me drop my jaw. "You... put on this dress by y–yourself?"

"Of course," he says casually, "Do you think I would let another male touch you, werewolf girl, when you are my mate?"

"So... y–you saw m–my body?"

"Do you usually stutter when you talk?" he asks, "You talked very smoothly earlier, shouting, 'My name is not werewolf girl!'"

"Look," he continues, "I won't touch you. You have nothing to worry about. Besides, the night is getting colder. Body heat is better than wet clothes."

I swear, I see him smirking. Chills spread through me, and it is not because of the cold.

"Wh–what do you mean... body heat?" I take a few steps backward from the fire, from him. Lyall's smirk is expanding as he walks past the fire. But my back soon meets the cave wall. While I have nowhere else to go, Lyall keeps advancing. He puts one hand on my right, blocking my way to the cave's entrance.

His musky scent is even stronger because of the dampness in the air. It's intoxicating, it's making my wolf crazy. It's also making my mind melt.

"Trust me, werewolf girl," I know he is using that nickname to annoy me, "If I see something I haven't seen already, I'll sleep outside."

He tilts his head to the heavy rain outside. It's pouring cats and dogs. Sometimes we can see flashes and thundering voices booming in the sky. It's a rainstorm. No way this lycan king would be able to sleep outside.

"It's not like this dress is hiding much, anyway," he says in a husky voice. I follow his downward gaze. That's when I realize he is right. Despite my hands covering my bosom, the wet beige dress is really transparent when wet. My cleavage is showing, my stomach is showing, and my... I quickly press my thighs together.

Before I can say anything, Lyall puts his fingers on the dress' neckline. His touch sends fire to my skin yet at the same time, freezes me on the spot. He easily pulls the dress down over my shoulders because the dress is quite stretchy.

His eyes lock with mine. And he keeps looking into my eyes as he makes the dress fall to the cave floor. I quickly cover my breast and hunch a bit with my thighs pressed so tightly together. Only then does he look over the rest of my body.

"You're beautiful," he whispers.

I blink.

For a few seconds, I thought I was hearing things over the heavy rain outside. But then he repeats the words, "Very beautiful."

A lot of people have mentioned my beauty. But they usually say it when I am dolled up in a beautiful dress with makeup and with Ed beside me. Or sometimes a few male patients would tell me I am beautiful then they try to score me.

Like an object. They told me I am beautiful like I was something to be obtained.

But this lycan king... tells me I am beautiful when my hair is wet and entangled, when I have no makeup on, when I am stark naked and cold... Ed only ever told me I am beautiful when I was bare naked once. And that was months after we got married.

This man praises me right off the bat.

His words don't make me feel like an object either. They make me feel like I am... the Goddess herself. Somehow, I gain more confidence and straighten my back.

Lyall takes the dress from the cave floor and puts it on the same boulder he put his shirt, pants, and boots on. When he sees the boots, his eyes quickly cast to my feet. Then he furrows his brows in what I assume as... annoyance. But he doesn't say anything as he grabs his shirt, lays it on the cave floor, then walks back to me.

Out of the blue, he lifts me up. I squeak like a mouse when he settles us down on his shirt with his back to the cave entrance and pulls me to his chest. He lays me on my side. My back is against the fire, which radiates the heat I need tonight. He also puts his strong arm for my head to lie upon.

I turn to the side even more, hiding my intimate parts from his sight. He chuckles, seeing my action.

"Relax, werewolf girl."

"I told you, my name is Mars," I protest.

With my back to the fire, he knows I can't move away when he inches closer to me, making my bosom pressed to his solid chest. We are skin to skin.

"It's warmer like this, right?" he whispers huskily.

This is embarrassing, but the pinkish peaks on my bosom harden just by hearing his voice. I squirm a little because his hot skin and the friction on those peaks cause me to feel prickly sensations. It hurts, but it hurts good.

"Y–yes...," I answer, hoping he wouldn't hear the drumming beats inside my chest.

Just then, my eyes flick to his right shoulder. Despite the dimly lit cave, I can see that his shoulder is positioned awkwardly. It's like he is holding his arm muscles taut. I also notice that he has not been using this arm at all.

Without thinking, my hands stretch, but I manage to stop myself just an inch before my fingers would touch his skin. I look up at him, asking for permission. When he nods, I wrap my fingers around his arm.

Lyall winces as I try to move his shoulder joint a bit. "Does it hurt?"

"It's a lot stiffer when it rains," he answers, "But it's fine. I'm lucky that my entire arm has not hardened yet."

A thought races past my mind. "Can I try something?"

"I've gone to the best healers and shamans in the world. I've even tried consulting a crazy human scientist and a shady warlock," he says, "But sure, go ahead."

My mouth pouts a little. Because his words sting me. Of course, I am just an ordinary healer from a werewolf pack. I have not the amazing skill the lycan healers, or the brilliant mind those scientists, warlocks, and shamans have. He thinks I would add no value to his condition and therefore I shouldn't try.

It's not the first time I have been looked down upon. But it stings because this is my second chance mate.

Still, I disregard that stinging feeling and concentrate on his darkened, hardened skin. It feels too dry, too rough, and it must hurt the normal skin around it when he moves. Letting out a long breath, my fingers glow with white light on his arm. I tilt my head a bit as my magic flows to his skin. My light shines on the entire cave, and a second later, I couldn't hear the rain or the crackling sound of the fire behind me. All I could hear is his calm and steady breathing.

Something seems to be blocking my power to heal his body cells. When I concentrate deeper, I find something odd. With all of my patients, I can feel their sense of being when I use my magic on them. Like, I can feel how they are as a person, maybe even their soul. I can picture the shape of their being in my mind; a wolf running free in the forest, a bird flying cheerfully in the vast blue sky, a star burning bright among other stars, a broken ceramic vase in a room full of people, or even an incomplete puzzle.

I am not really sure what it was because every time I asked Ed or a senior werewolf in the pack, they would always say I am just being a 'female' who lets my feelings get in the way of my judgment. The senior werewolf, who by the way was also a female that I thought would understand me, even blatantly told me not to speak of it anymore and just do my job.

So, I call it my woman intuition. And I used it to my advantage in treating my patients.

But for Lyall... I see a barren field. Empty. The sky is high up above, but no clouds and no sun. There are no flowers, trees, or even grass. It is just dry earth with cracks revealing the dark space underneath.

It is quiet too. Very quiet.

Lonely.

In my mind, I touch the dry earth below me. I don't know why, but I start wishing for the earth to heal. So, I imagine there is water running below the earth, to make the earth moist. At first, I didn't see any changes. But as I fill the space below the earth with more and more water, soon I see the cracks coming together. When I stand, I see a healthy-looking empty land.

And just like that, my mind transports me back to reality. The first thing I see after blinking is his emerald eyes, looking at me wide-eyed. I can hear the sound of the rain and feel the heat from the fire again.

He looks shocked, so I thought I somehow have managed to heal his cursed skin. Yet when I look at his shoulder, it is still the same rough and dark skin.

My eyes droop, knowing that I have failed. I am, after all, just an ordinary werewolf healer. I'm embarrassed now.

"Sorr–"

He cuts my apology by lifting my chin with his cursed arm, forcing my eyes to meet his still astounded eyes. I only understand why he is surprised when he starts moving his cursed arm to caress the side of my face. He fiddles with a few strands of my dark, wet hair and puts them behind my ear.

He can move the arm now even though his skin still feels rough and dark.

"Can you move it better now?" I have to make sure.

"Yes. Much better."

I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. Suddenly, my eyelids are becoming heavy. I must have used too much magic.

Lyall is still caressing my face when he whispers, "Where were they hiding you, werewolf girl?"

I can't seem to keep my eyelids open any longer as my head nestles to the warmth of his other arm. It feels nice to feel warm on a cold rainy night.

He mutters something so close to my face, but my mind is already on the edge of slumber. The last thing I could remember was him pulling my face to his and planting a gentle kiss on my lips.

Then his cursed arm nestles on the slope of my back, creating a tingling feeling on my skin. It's like he is waking up all of my nerve endings and coordinating them to burn me from the inside.

But slumber wins over the growing desire brewing inside me because of his touch. And he withdraws his lips from me when he senses I am too tired to return his kiss.

"Rest, werewolf girl," he whispers again, "I'll protect you. I'll keep you safe."

Sometime after that, I hear another whisper, "I can't believe you're mine." But it could just be my dream.

–to be continued–