Kaye:
"Helanie! Your wounds need to be cleaned, and you need a bath to help with your fever." I watched her stand hesitantly by the bed, hugging herself tightly and looking reluctant.
"I—" Her voice held a quiet hesitation, her gaze fixed on the ground as if she wasn’t really present. It felt as though only her body was here.
I walked over and, without touching her hand or arm, gestured toward the bathroom and started in that direction. As I neared the door, she slowly began to follow, her hand rubbing her elbow, eyes still cast downward. I’d never seen anyone with such pure innocence.
My brother’s words echoed in my mind.
No! She was nothing like her mother.
In fact, she seed different from any other she-wolf.
Once she entered the bathroom, I gave her privacy to undress and settle into the bath. After a few minutes, when I stepped inside, I saw she hadn’t fully undressed—she sat in the water, wearing only her bra and underwear. I understood she wasn’t comfortable being fully exposed around , and I respected that.
I sat beside her, holding the washcloth gently in my hand, pressing the warm cloth over her bruised back with the lightest touch.
My heart sank as I worked, even without direct contact. There was sothing so haunting about Helanie. She barely moved, her gaze fixed sowhere far away, distant.
She hadn’t said much since I’d insisted on helping her with the bath.
"Let know if it hurts," I murmured, but she didn’t respond.
I moved to her shoulder, careful around a particularly dark bruise. Her skin felt warm beneath my touch, and for a mont, I almost forgot why I was here—lost in the quiet sound of water, the faint scent of lavender, and the soft rhythm of her breathing.
She was so distinct, her scent almost intoxicating, comforting in an inexplicable way. In her presence, I didn’t feel the usual weight to keep up appearances.
Realizing I’d zoned out, I forced myself back to reality, focusing on wringing out the washcloth.
However, there was sothing on her back I couldn’t look away from—circular burn marks scattered across her skin.
The pinkish scars seed to be healing, but they were unmistakably from cigarette burns.
The mont I let the washcloth slip into the water and gently touched one of the marks, I felt Helanie’s body shudder. That small, startled movent told she’d just co back to the present, from wherever she’d been lost.
"That will be it. Thank you for your help," she said quickly, almost pulling away, her voice laced with urgency.
"I’m almost done," I replied softly, though I could sense her unease.
"No! It’s fine. I can manage myself," she insisted, reaching for the washcloth that had slipped into the tub.
"Uh... it’s under you," I said, debating whether to help her find it or simply let her be.
She was unusually tense and unwilling to let continue—not in a way that seed like personal choice, but more as if the thought of being touched repulsed her.
"Hey, what’s going on?" I finally asked, unable to understand why she seed so miserable yet fought so hard. I’d never heard her talk about boys, mates, makeup, or any of the usual things people her age enjoyed. Even when she was in the mansion, I have not seen her talk to her mother. And it reminded how her mother wanted her gone. Why? How could a mother hate her daughter so much and why?
"What are all these marks on your body?" The mont I ntioned them, she lifted her head, and my breath nearly caught in my throat. Her eyes were red, as if she was trying to hold back tears.
"I’m... human, rember?" she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t have a wolf to heal , so the scars stay, and my body is fragile. Can you please leave so I can dress?" She quickly turned her face away after her response.
It was painfully clear that her secrets mattered deeply to her. No amount of pressing or prying would make her open up.
Could it be trust issues?
"Sure. I didn’t an to make you uncomfortable." I got up, pointed to the black dress I’d left for her, and walked out of the bathroom.
Once back in the bedroom, I began pacing from one corner of the room to the other.
"The ruthless Kaye, going crazy over a few marks on a stranger’s back," Ye taunted, making roll my eyes.
"What? Did I upset you by calling her a stranger?" He always knew how to get under my skin.
"Why are you straying from your motive? What happened to your goals? Surely, taking care of that woman’s daughter wasn’t on the list, was it? I hope you haven’t forgotten what her mother did to you and your family." Ye’s words dripped with venom, causing to close my eyes. But the minute I did, those burn marks on her back flashed in my mind.
"She acted like it was nothing, as if cigarette burns are normal—sothing people just brush off. But, because they’re wolves, they heal," I muttered under my breath. Just then, the bathroom door opened, and I quickly composed myself.
She stepped out in the black dress, her skin soft and glowing.
As she sat on the bed, I turned to leave to get her so food when her voice—gentle and soft—called my na, and my world seed to stop.
"Kaye!"
It was so delicate that the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
"Thank you." Her simple gratitude filled with a surprising sense of pride, making feel important.
A small smile crept onto my lips, and I took a deep breath before turning back to her with a nod.
Her platinum blonde hair was still wet, falling loosely over her shoulders—a striking contrast to the black dress.
In that mont, a wave of disgust washed over , and I quickly left the room. Isn’t it wrong to think this way about my stepsister?
"Imagine what Mom would say," Ye murmured darkly, sending chills down my spine.
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