Helen POV
Russo held open the door to the vacant house and I fell inside immediately, unable to have any more strength to go further than the foyer. Russo made sure to lock the door, falling beside me so he could see my face, covered by my matted, bloody hair.
“Little wolf, are you okay?” he gasped, his voice a stark difference than it was at my father’s packhouse. He is so calm and concerned. I’m glad he isn’t the ruthless and callous Fae he was pretending to be at the dinner table. “Helen, I’m going to pick you up, okay?”
Before I could stop him, he lifted me off the floor. I gasped alive, my back on fire as it pressed into his forearms. My fists curled into the fabric of his shirt, begging to be cut loose.
“Here, here,” he panted, lowering me into the bathtub. I slid onto my side,
