Chained to old wounds

CH30

Tsuneo

The silence stretched for a moment. What was the plan? Morgan started to wrap my shoulder with bandages. Her gaze met mine.

“Let’s get you settled back in.”

Morgan nodded, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she helped me back onto the luxurious bedsheets, the cool silk a welcome contrast against my heated skin. The lingering warmth of her touch on my arm sent a fresh jolt through me, a bittersweet reminder of the interrupted moment.

As I sank back against the pillows, she began putting away the medical supplies, her movements brisk and efficient. Once finished, she knelt beside the bed and, with surprising ease, shoved the

medical kit under the ornately carved frame.

With a flick of my wrist, a wave of shimmering energy pulsed through the room. The pool of blood vanished. It vanished from my robe and hands. The robe mended itself.

“That was impressive.”

I smiled.

“Think you can manage to play dead long enough?

I nodded and settled into my usual position. Before I closed my eyes, she slipped out of the pink robe, leaving just the thin, see–through middle layer and her slip. I shut my eyes, trying to block the image out of my mind, and push down my jealousy at the thought that he would see her like that. She ran a hand through her short hair, but her diadem remained in place as she opened the door.

“What do you want?” She asked. “And how dare you just barge into his room. Have you no respect?”

“You…” His voice turned sleazy. “What took so long?”

“What does it look like?” She asked. “I’m exhausted because I actually do work. If you want to take his spot, shouldn’t you be working on taking on some of his duties?”

“There’s at least one duty I’d like…”

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“Not even if you were the only option in either realm. Get out.”

I heard him walking away from the door. She followed him to the door and said loudly.

“Next time, I’ll assume you’re an intruder: swing first, ask questions later.”

Relief washed over me as the sound of Keiji’s retreating footsteps faded away. With a sigh, I cracked open one eye to see Morgan standing by the massive oak door. The sound of her footsteps returned. My other eye remained closed, but a sly smile played on my lips. Morgan, it seemed, was growing fiercer by the moment. The door closed, and I felt her barrier go up.

“I’m sorry. That was my fault.”

“It’s okay,” I mumbled, unable to contain my amusement. “Nice job.”

A soft chuckle escaped her lips. Then, I opened my eyes, and the heat in my veins turned boiling. She didn’t reach for her outer robe, and the see–through robe did nothing to cover her curves.

Heat flooded my cheeks. The words pushed at my lips. Before I could form a coherent thought, she spoke.

“I’m going to wash up. Then, I’ll be out there. Did you get a chance to eat?”

I nodded.

“Good. I’m starving. Rest, yeah?”

With that, she left my bedroom. My eyes trailed her every movement, captivated by the elegant curve of her spine and the way the light cast shadows on her body. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a potent mix of desire and adrenaline. I was dead tired and turned on. It was hell. I lay back, blinking up at the ceiling. As I lay there, the throbbing pain in my shoulder, a dull ache compared to the storm of emotions raging within me, I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next?

I got out of bed just in time to see the bedroom door close, and a wall of shimmer jade and gold light cover it. My gaze drifted down, and a jolt of electricity shot through me. Her outer robe lay discarded on the floor. I bent down and picked it up, burying my nose in it on impulse. I growled, wanting to barge into the bathroom, but I stepped back into the bedroom. Heat flooded my cheeks. The poison’s effects were still lingering.

Before the pain started to grow to more than a dull ache, I headed back to bed. Part of me was thrilled – she was here, with me, in a state of undress that spoke of a newfound closeness. But another part, a possessive, primal instinct, flared with anger. The image of Keiji seeing her like

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that, a glimpse of vulnerability that was rightfully mine alone, sent a dark scowl etching lines on my face.

“Morgan,” I finally rasped, my voice thick with emotion.

She poked her head out of the bathroom. I could tell she had only dropped the see–through robe. Her eyes were wide.

“Yes?”

–

“Don’t.” I choked out, the single word encompassing a maelstrom of emotions possessiveness, jealousy, and a desperate need to claim her completely. But something held me back: a respect for her and a fear of smothering the fragile connection we were building.

“Don’t… let anyone see you like that again,” I finished, my voice rough with possessiveness.

A ghost of a smile played on her lips. “Like what?” She feigned innocence, her eyes sparkling with

amusement.

“You know exactly what I mean,” I grumbled, a wry smile tugging at the corner of my own lips. Despite the seriousness of the situation, a playful banter felt like a welcome. She laughed and ducked back into the bathroom.

Soon, she came back out, dressed in a clean slip and a different robe. She sat beside me, and suddenly, she gasped. My gaze darted to her hands, where a thin red line marred the pale skin on her wrist. The sight sent a jolt of concern through me.

“What happened?” I demanded, the possessiveness momentarily eclipsed by worry.

“Oh, this?” She dismissed it with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “Just a sewing accident. Nothing serious.”

But I wasn’t convinced. The thin line seemed too deliberate, too clean–cut to be a mere sewing. mishap. Rising on my elbow, I ignored the protest from my still–aching shoulder and reached for her hand.

“Let me see,” I commanded, my voice firm but laced with a newfound tenderness.

Hesitation flickered across her face, but after a moment’s pause, she relented, extending her hand towards me. I summoned the medical kit from under the bed and held her hand gently. A warmth bloomed in my chest as I started to treat her hand.

“You should be more careful,” I chided her gently, my gaze lingering on the delicate curve of her This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

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wrist.

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“Says the man with holes in his shoulder?”

A chuckle escaped my lips. “Fair point.”

I wrapped her hand and held it. I was barely able to keep my eyes open. The tension that had gripped us moments ago was gone, and it felt oddly comfortable between us.

As I finished securing the last bit of bandage, our eyes met. Hers held a depth of emotion I couldn’t decipher, a mix of vulnerability and something more. In that moment, suspended between unspoken desires and the weight of unspoken truths. I held her hand, and she smiled a little.

“You should rest. You look exhausted.”

“… stay with me.”

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Author’s Note: Hi, hope you like the story. I’ll be posting new chapters soon 🙂

Chapter Comments

Visitor

I’m really enjoying this story. I can’t wait to see how their relationship develops. I feel so sorry for them & his Dad.

Kylie Zammit

love this story, I can’t wait to see what happens