Emily laid propped in a lying position on the deep blue sectional sofa in living room, her twisted ankle elevated high on a stack of plush pillows, the green skirt smoothed modest over her thighs now that the initial chaos had settled.
Pain throbbed dull through the arnica spray and ibuprofen haze, but tears still pricked at the corners of her eyes, which she rubbed away with trembling fingers.
Her raven hair bun had come half-undone, dark strands framing her flushed face, the oversized white button-up shirt rumpled loose over her full curves, gaping slightly at the collar to reveal a glimpse of collarbone.
Hellen looked away, taking a deep breath to remove Emily's image from her mind. She wasn't gay—she didn't like the fellow alphas.
Afternoon light slanted golden through the bay windows, casting warm pools on the honey-oak floors and dancing dust motes over the stone fireplace, where wildflowers nodded faintly in their vase on the coffee table.
The portable whiteboard stood salvaged in the corner, its wheeled tripod righted amid scattered markers, a silent sentinel of her botched attempt.
"Why did you force those painkillers on me?" Emily whispered, voice thick and small, wiping the last tears with the heel of her hand, 'alpha' pride cracked raw under the vulnerability.
Hellen knelt close by the sofa's edge, her navy cashmere sweater sleeves pushed up to her elbows, revealing strong forearms still dusted faintly from the storeroom fall. Ice-blue eyes locked gentle on Emily's, blonde chignon loosened by one rebellious strand framing her sharp cheekbones.
She had carried Emily up from the basement bridal-secure, effortless as if the petite alpha weighed nothing, settling her here with meticulous care—gel packs rotated from an improvised ice bucket.
Her hand paused on Emily's calf above the wrapped ankle, thumb circling a soothing knot from the twist.
'Soft... it's too soft,' Hellen thought, rubbing Emily's thigh slightly.
"Mphmm... Hellen, don't rub too much..."
"You were crying out in pain," Hellen replied simply, her voice low and steady, wrapped in plain truth without a hint of judgment. She adjusted the gel pack firmer against the swelling, fingers lingering careful and warm through the chill. "Stubborn alpha or not, you needed it. Couldn't just watch."
"But—"
"Can you keep your mouth closed? I am feeling guilty because I let you climb the stool, and injure yourself."
Emily bit her full lip, shifting slightly on the cushions—the shirt gaping a touch more, curves settling deeper into the plush gray as the drugs blurred the edges warm and fuzzy.
Heat crept back into her cheeks, memory flashing to Hellen's arms cinched tight around her mid-fall, breath mingling close in the dusty storeroom shadows. She shook her head slightly. She liked men—women weren't her cup of tea... no matter how strong or cool they were.
"You should go now," she murmured, voice gaining a little steadiness but her gaze darting to the darkening windows outside, where the gravel drive lay empty under twilight's creep. "We can talk about the plan later. Don't... babysit me."
Hellen's expression blanked cool for a moment—gaze unreadable, lips pressing into a thin line—then she shook her head slow and deliberate, rising fluid to perch on the coffee table's edge, her knees brushing Emily's good leg in accidental closeness.
The blank look pierced straight through, carrying that subtle alpha command humming beneath the care. "I can't go now."
The words landed final, no room for debate, her hand returning to tweak the pillow under Emily's knee—fingers grazing the inner thigh feather-light, drawing a traitorous shiver despite the lingering throb.
"Why?"
"Your ankle's sprained really bad—swelling's no joke. Rest, ice every twenty minutes, elevate through the night. Not leaving you hobbling alone."
"But—" Emily started, fresh tears pricking not from pain now but a swell of overwhelm, her eyes dropping to Hellen's hand still warm on her calf.
"No buts, Emily." Hellen leaned in just a fraction, voice dropping to a husky-soft timbre, fetching a fresh gel pack from the side bucket. "You're my partner. Your plan can wait for tomorrow. Tonight, this comes first."
The spray hissed cool again under her skilled kneading, pain ebbing in waves, her free hand brushing a stray tear track from Emily's cheek with thumb-gentle intimacy—unasked, protectiveness flaring unspoken. The blank look thawed into warmth; it was blank no longer.
Hellen cursed herself for her subconscious reaction, removing her hand slowly.
Emily sank deeper, her breath steadying slow and even under Hellen's careful ministrations, the chamomile tea's warm steam curling faint from the mug she'd sipped to chase the pain's edge.
"Stay then," she whispered finally, voice a breathy thread as a small smile ghosted her full lips—vulnerable, grateful, emerald eyes fluttering heavy-lidded. "Thanks."
Her eyelids drifted shut slow, lashes fanning delicate shadows, body going limp in trusting surrender, chest rising soft with sleep's rhythm.
Hellen watched from her perch on the coffee table edge, eyes softening full as Emily's features slackened peaceful.
"Should I put you in bed?" she asked low, voice gentle probe, testing if sleep claimed full or reason lingered.
"Yes..." Emily murmured unconscious, head lolling faint nod, lips parting sigh-soft—no awareness, pure instinct yielding.
"You... are expecting too much from me, aren't you?" Hellen shook her head faint-amused, affection cracking her reserve wider as she rose fluidly.
She slid arms beneath Emily's body, lifting her up in a way—effortless lift, petite curves nestling light as silk against her chest. Raven hair spilled cool and baby-soft over Hellen's hand cradling Emily's back. Her strands silkier than anything she had touched, tempting fingers to thread deeper, combing gentle through the waves as she rose.
Emily's nose nudged warm into the cashmere vee at Hellen's chest, breath puffing steady against skin. Hellen's eyes darkened fraction, pulse kicking low—too soft, this woman, curves lush omega-like despite her alpha status.
Hellen cradled closer on the honey-oak stairs, Emily's rosy toes peeking from blanket drape, ankles delicate-swollen where pain bloomed pink, calves curving to thighs parted slight in sleep-slack skirt.
Nape arched perfect as head lolled back—porcelain skin flushed warm, vulnerable hollow begging lips or teeth. Subconscious pull overrode her mind—Hellen leaned, nose burying subtle in raven strands, inhaling deep that weird-tempting scent—jasmine bath-faint laced something richer, creamier, sweet undertone.
Whose pheromone was it? Was it a hidden relation? It stirred something traitorous as she shook head sharp, forcing focus—she is my partner—and climbed the stairs to her room.
The bedroom glowed softly, cream blankets puffy-inviting on the frame—Hellen lowered Emily feather-gentle to mattress depths, body sinking plush. Blanket tucked secure chin-high, gel pack refreshed ankle-high, painkiller water glass bedside.
Emily sighed deeper sleep, lips parting whisper-moan, raven haloed pillow.
Hellen lingered doorway shadow, ice-blue tracing sleeping form—Emily's nape still tempting, toes rosy curl, scent clinging her sweater like claim. She shook head once more—too soft, too real—with a slap to her own face, she walked downstairs.