Olivia’s POV
“My wife,” Gabriel coos, waltzing into our room around midnight. I can’t stand the sight of him after seeing Herold and the King Alpha turn on each other to fight; it wounded me more than I’d like to admit. “My dear, please. Come help your wounded husband.”
I finally look up, noticing the small gash on his bare chest. “Oh no,” I groan, rolling my eyes at the petite cut. “What happens if you don’t make it? This wound could kill you.”
He doesn’t seem bothered by my sarcasm, instead handing me a warm and wet rag. I dab it gently against the mark, knowing that he will probably heal from this wound in a matter of seconds. I entertain him though, somewhat admiring his beautiful physic.
He notices and tries to flex, smiling churlishly like a kid at show-and-tell. I shake my head
