Ethan's brows all but reached his hairline as Bela slid her hand free from his face. He cleared his throat and repeated, "Cleaned up?"

"Come," Bela tilted her head towards the stairs leading to the great hall. "I'll draw you that warm bath I owe you." Her hand raised for a moment – as if meaning to reach for him – only to settle back by her side.

A sharp giggle cut in, and Ethan snapped his eyes towards Daniela – who he'd nearly forgotten was watching the entire exchange and enjoying the show. Her big, mischievous eyes positively lit up with glee. She bounced off the balls of her feet from where she stood; Daniela looked ready to yell at them to smack their lips together and get on with it. This must have been a real life, fucked up romance novel to her.

Daniela ceased her bouncing to skip over to Ethan and press herself to his side. She told Bela, "You ought to scrub him well, sister – Ethan here is a very dirty, dirty boy."

"Hey!" Ethan protested.

Maybe he should have just let Cassandra cut his tongue out. At least that way, he would not have spilled so much of his incriminating past to Daniela. Being mute seemed to have more pros than cons in this castle.

Any trace of a smile was wiped from Bela's face; the mask of neutrality she wore betrayed only by the slightest tick at the corner of her eye – or the twitch at her lip when Daniela wrapped her arm around Ethan's.

Like the agent of chaos she was, Daniela leaned her head on his shoulder, peering up at him and flashing a wink. Precariously balancing her books, Daniela rubbed a hand on Ethan's pecs. She kept her eyes fixed to Ethan as she addressed Bela, "Be sure to wash that nice, muscular chest of his. I know just how dirty he likes to get."

Bela's throat bobbed with a gulp. Through a tight scowl, she asked, "Is that so?"

Ethan shook his head, struggling to free himself from Daniela's grip. "It is not how it sounds like."

Daniela purred and nuzzled his shoulder. "I am so jealous now that you're taking him away again, sister."

One could practically see Bela's teeth grinding together. Pointedly unclenching her jaw first, Bela replied, "You have had him for an entire day and a half. You may borrow him again some other time."

"Hmph," Daniela pouted at Bela, then turned her eyes back to Ethan. "I will miss my new favorite pillow," She squeezed his arm, "And that warm, soft lap of yours."

Ethan didn't think it was possible, but Bela looked a shade paler than usual.

"Aww," Daniela cooed, "and that deep voice reading to me until I fall asleep."

"Dani," He tried in vain to defuse the mounting insinuations, "Quit it!"

The redhead in question let out a soft tsk and released his arm. She wrapped an arm around his neck instead to give him a hug; her other arm kept her paper bag of books secure. Ethan stumbled a pace back to catch his balance. He grunted, "And I'm irredeemable, huh?"

Daniela ignored his protests. She hummed instead, warm against Ethan's ear. "I had a wonderful time with you, Ethan." She buried her face in his neck, ignoring the cutthroat glare from Bela. "I'll miss you."

Her teasing was – for the moment – absent; in its place was the same heartfelt sincerity Ethan had seen much over the past day. Still clutching onto the gift box, Ethan placed his free arm over Daniela's back to return the hug. "You be good. I'll see you soon, okay?"

Daniela nodded and placed a quick peck to his cheek before pulling back; her devilish eyes went to Bela, who appeared increasingly tense – nearly ready to jump at them both. Daniela was quick to sidle up to her sister, giving her a matching kiss on the cheek. She stepped back, grasping Bela's shoulder to tell her, "You best be careful around that one, Bela. Don't let that naughty boy drag you into any closets." She placed a dainty hand to her chest and said, "I am not ready to be an auntie."

It appeared to break through the tension in Bela's frame – substituting it with confusion. Daniela didn't give Bela the opportunity to voice her bewilderment, as the redhead soon shifted into her soaring swarm, cradling her bundle of books. She was flying clear of the hall within moments. Mischievous giggling filled the air before the beating of wings grew distant, and then vanished completely.

He was going to get back at her for this. Somewhere, somehow, he would. Although, that was tomorrow's battle. He had much more pressing matters to attend to.

For the first time since their argument, Ethan and Bela were left alone. Bela's head remained craned over her shoulder for a second longer, and when it was apparent Daniela was not coming back, she returned her gaze to Ethan. Those eyes of hers lacked the usual warmth he was accustomed to. They were narrowed in suspicion instead.

Raising a hand up in surrender, Ethan said, "It's not what you're thinking, I swear."

Bela let out a sound akin to a scoff. She shook her head. "Of course, it isn't."

Bela turned her back within the second; she began walking without so much as a glance to see if he was following. Ethan had no choice but to fall in step with her as he pleaded his case, "I mean it. You know how Dani can be. She's just wording it like that to tease us."

"Dani?" Bela repeated, looking his way once, one brow cocked in suspicion. "I see it did not take you long to be on a nickname-basis with her."

Ethan felt it was better left unsaid that he had initiated it, when her full name of Daniela felt like a mouthful. No use digging his grave any deeper than it already was.

When he didn't immediately respond, Bela spoke again, pausing by the dining room's double doors, "Try not to break my sister's heart too much over the course of your courtship."

He sputtered and scoffed, and his mind utterly failed to come up with a coherent defense. To his relief, it got Bela to crack him the slightest of smiles before she pushed into the dining room. When they entered the room, any trace of mirth vanished just as quickly. Bela paused at the doorway, stiff as a board. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms. The very air around her felt colder and thicker just to be revisiting the dining room.

Ethan couldn't blame her, of course. Unhappy memories surely lingered after their tense standoff, even after all this time. He waited, until Bela drew in a long breath, sighed, and wordlessly led the way.

Walking with Bela was different this time around (or behind Bela if he were to be technical about it). With his hands securing the gift box in front of him, Bela felt inexplicably distant as she stayed a few paces ahead; she kept her gaze locked forward, as if wearing blinders to block him and everything else out.

There was no constant warmth pressed up to his side – unlike every stroll they had taken prior, with Bela wrapping an arm around his and sticking close.

He didn't want to say he missed it.

(He did.)

But it was odd to feel Bela so distant. Of course, there was a clear and obvious reason for it – what with the weight of their argument still hanging in the air. Surely, all of Daniela's teasing, and the dining room's strained aura did not help in the slightest to alleviate the tension between them. Ethan resolved to handle it once they got to her room, where they could speak in private. The sooner the better.

They passed through the kitchens, where the smell of dish soap and detergent alike were aplenty. The maids did their usual routine of trying to blend in with the furniture and looking invisible; they gave Bela and Ethan a wide berth. A glance at the gathered servants revealed Olga's distinctive bracelet to be absent. The lack of a courteous greeting indicated Tatyana was similarly absent. Before long, Ethan and Bela were descending the stone steps and arriving at the dungeon landing, brightened by torchlight. Ethan glanced over to the side – down the winding passages to his cell. The path was illuminated; someone – very likely Bela – had relit all the snuffed torches. It lined up with Daniela's theory that Bela had busied herself locking up the Moroaice.

Not that Bela's current winterwear lined up with that theory.

Bela wasted no time approaching the ornate, banded door to her room and opening it.

It was evident Bela had been away for some time. They were greeted by the lingering darkness, and the cold air bathing the room. She stepped in, leaving Ethan to linger in the doorway while she zipped around the dark room. One by one, numerous candelabras and sconces came to life, casting a warm glow on the bedroom.

Bela's bedroom was sizeable, with a fancy four-poster bed pushed up to the far wall. It rested atop a red carpet, adding a splash of color to the smooth stone floor. Her blue sheets and blankets were messy and unmade, contrasting the room's neat state. A few small bookshelves – or at least, small compared to Daniela's library – took up the left side of the bed, not far from the desks occupying the corner to Ethan's left. A scan of the tabletops, even from the doorway, revealed this was her miniature laboratory, if the test tube rack and the microscope were anything to go by.

To Ethan's immediate right was a door, to which he could guess was where the bathroom was. A little further ahead was a large fireplace, currently unlit. An iron basket of firewood stood beside it, ready to bring the hearth to life. A mound – or perhaps a nest – of pillows lied in a heap in front of the fireplace. Over to the bed's right were a dark wardrobe and a dresser with a mirror. He saw an assortment of jewelry on the surface, along with a small, framed picture.

Ethan couldn't make out any more details, as Bela made a beeline for her dresser, and her bulky coat blocked out the view. Without turning to face him, Bela spoke, "Please, make yourself at home."

Bela grabbed something from the top of the dresser, stuffing it into a drawer. A sharp click was audible once Bela locked it shut. When she stepped away from the dresser, Ethan immediately noted that the framed picture was missing.

As interesting as it was, Ethan kept his observations to himself. This was her space; it may have been the first time an outsider like himself entered her sanctuary. If she wished to keep some aspects of her life private, he respected that. The photo must have been incredibly personal, and it wasn't in his place to ask about it. She would broach the subject if she wished, whenever that may be. So, rather than ponder it further, Ethan made himself useful; he turned to the fireplace.

There wasn't a single doubt about where Bela had come from. Ethan would be an idiot to ignore her thick layers and the clinging snowflakes which had long since melted into droplets of water. Considering how cold the weather was, surely Bela would appreciate some warmth in her rather chilly room. He set the giftbox down on the floor as he crouched. Ethan took fresh logs from the basket and stowed them into the fireplace. He stacked the wood as needed to ensure the fire caught.

In the meantime, Bela stuffed her hands into her pockets – retrieving the extra layers she had taken off in the hall. The ski goggles, gloves, scarf – they were haphazardly tossed onto her bed. She undid her down coat's buttons, and then the metallic sound of her zipper followed.

Ethan tore his eyes from Bela before he could be caught staring. He focused instead on striking a match and lighting the tinder. Having much practice over the past few months, Ethan ensured the flames caught, and the fireplace soon blazed with life. Straightening up, Ethan found Bela standing close by, taking in the warmth. She was in the midst of shrugging off her outerwear, revealing the grey sweater underneath – and then the heavy coat snagged on her bandage.

Ethan's heart hammered in his ribcage as he watched Bela unwrap the bandage. She tore the cloth off with haste, hissing in pain through clenched teeth. With little show or ceremony, she hurled the bandage straight into the fire.

Bela kept her back to Ethan after discarding the bandage. She let her coat hit the floor, then rolled up the sleeves of her sweater – inspecting her injury.

The injury she'd obtained outside, in the cold, where danger lurked around every corner. Where the elements weakened her and posed a threat to her life.

Approaching Bela now, Ethan asked, "What happened there?"

Bela practically spun around to face Ethan, eyes widening in alarm; she took a step back to maintain their distance, her boots producing loud thumps in the silence of her room.

Ethan stopped where he stood, keeping his hands at his sides, but raised in the slightest in a placating gesture. Bela's defensive posture – outright stepping away from him – was not easily missed. Softly, he asked again, "What's wrong?" He nodded towards her arm. "Are you okay?"

Bela clutched a hand over the concealed wound and shook her head. "Nothing is wrong. This is nothing."

He could understand if his boorish behavior from the other night had still weighed heavily on Bela – really. He wouldn't at all hold that against her. If the tables were turned, he would likely feel the same.

But if she was wounded, this was not the time to let that get in the way of first aid.

As gently as he could, Ethan said, "It's not nothing if you had to bandage that up. Please, let me see." He offered a small smile and added, "Gotta pay you back somehow for all the times you put me back together." As was his habit, Ethan attempted using humor to defuse her unease, "Besides, you know me – I'm pretty handy with a bottle of disinfectant and some dirty rags."

Bela held his gaze for a while longer, brows furrowed together and tension creasing her tattooed forehead. Then she gulped, nodded slightly, and removed her hand, revealing the damage on her right arm.

Standing close now, Ethan gingerly encircled his fingers around Bela's arm, turning it to get a better look.

In the warm light of the fireplace, the wound was an ugly sight. Four long, deep gashes ran across her arm in the obvious shape of claws – a defensive wound; Ethan had more than his fair share of those on his own arms. But rather than gushing blood, Bela's damaged skin was twisted and discolored. The deepest parts of the cut were the darkest, while the surrounding gnarled flesh was bluish in hue, reminiscent of frostbite.

Hoping to ease the tension, Ethan chimed, "Yup. Those are claws, alright."

Bela huffed, rolling her eyes. "Gee, thank you, doc. What gave it away?"

Once the brief mirth subsided, he asked, "How does it feel?"

"It's nothing. I do not feel a thing." Bela set her lips in a firm, straight line.

Ethan brushed his thumb over the edge of the claw mark using a featherlight touch. Instantly, Bela took in a sharp breath. His eyes went to Bela's, and he couldn't help but smile. It's almost like she was taking a page from his book and downplaying her injuries. Broken ribs were just little aches, and severed body parts were just scratches. Licking his lips, Ethan tried again, "Well, Miss Dimitrescu, let me ask you again: how does it feel?"

"Stings a little," Bela admitted.

Ethan was far less qualified than Bela was, that was for sure – but it wouldn't stop him from trying to be useful. He refused to sit around idly and let Bela tend to her injury alone.

If it were conventional frostbite, Ethan was certain Bela wouldn't be feeling the affected area at all. The skin was neither waxy nor blistery. She appeared to have full mobility over the arm. No fever, slurred speech, or memory loss. They could rule out frostbite and hypothermia as possible problems to anticipate. It looked as though chunks had simply been torn out of her arm, and the skin sealed over in an instant. It must have hurt like a bitch; he would know – he had scars just like it.

In the bitter frost outside, the lycans were the most common threat, aside from the weather itself. With how hard those bastards hit, and how sharp their claws were, it was a fair assumption when Ethan asked, "Did some lycan do this?"

Bela's eyes were set on her ravaged arm, and she avoided meeting his gaze. She let slip a sigh and nodded. "Yes."

The unease stirred within Ethan some more, swirling in his gut and demanding answers. Why it was she risked her neck fighting lycans could wait. For now, the wound had to be treated somehow. "You ever dealt with anything like this?" Ethan kept his fingers clear of the wound, holding her arm as gently as possible. "This sort of damage?"

Licking her lips, Bela shook her head. "No. I have not."

Throwing metaphorical spaghetti at the wall now, Ethan suggested, "Maybe we could wash it under some warm water – just make sure the wound's clean before anything else." At Bela's hesitant nod, he added, "Cold, bad. Heat, good – yeah?"

His simplification of the matter earned a short, breathy chuckle from Bela, and she confirmed, "Yes."

"We can warm up the cut once it's clean. Maybe that'll help." Ethan nodded his head towards the only other door in the room. "That the bathroom?"

Bela hummed in affirmation; her attention remained fixed to her arm.

The elephants in the room – her reason for being out, and the argument from nights prior – could wait a few more minutes. Treating Bela took precedence.

Ethan released Bela's hand; he stepped away from the fireplace and towards the door. Opening it revealed the dark space within. A glance behind him revealed Bela was prepared, having retrieved the matchbox by the fireplace. While Bela brought light to the room, Ethan stepped out to retrieve his giftbox, and the pocket warmers within. Entering the bathroom again, Ethan got a good look at the interior.

The warm, bright glow of the numerous candles and sconces on the walls illuminated the room. The walls and floor were cut from the same smooth stone as Bela's room. It was laid out similarly to the library's bathroom, but larger and more decorated. Just through the door was a sink, with a corresponding cabinet below, and a medicine cabinet above, with a mirror casting their reflection. To the side, past the ornate, gold-trimmed toilet, was a similarly regal bathtub, gilded in gold.

A showerhead and a corresponding faucet jutted out from the stone wall above the foot of the tub. A steel ring was fixed overhead – should the bather wish to hang a shower curtain, Ethan noted. To the tub's side was the wall – the end of the room, but carved out to form a natural shelf, on which an extensive collection of toiletries was on display. There was considerable space by the head of the tub – likely to allow easy access for the piping's maintenance, if Ethan had to guess.

Bela was already standing by the sink, so Ethan was quick to join her there. He set the gift box down on the counter, and Bela shot it another curious look before her eyes went to his, and just as soon averted contact.

Ethan turned the faucet, running his hands under the stream to ensure it was warm, and to wash his hands. He wasn't going to bother asking if Bela had any disinfectant lying around. While her own condition was about as abnormal as Ethan's, he knew that – in general – dousing large wounds with antiseptic was a no-no. His rapid healing, stimulated by the disinfectant, was the exception, not the rule.

He preferred to avoid causing Bela unnecessary pain, and irritating the wound further.

Finding the water's temperature satisfactory, Ethan plucked a neatly folded hand towel off the closest wall rack. He turned his other hand over, motioning for Bela to bring her arm closer.

Bela hesitated. Her arm was tucked close to her body for several long seconds before she complied. She extended the wounded limb out, and Ethan took her arm just as slowly. He did his best not to spook her, considering she was as jumpy and tense as she was. The last thing they needed was for her to flinch in his hands and agitate the wound.

Ethan guided Bela's arm under the stream; she took in a sharp breath through grit teeth as the first droplets ran over the wound.

"I'm sorry," Ethan whispered. "Does it hurt?"

Bela cleared her throat. "Just a bit."

"No telling where those werewolves' claws have been. I'm sure a bug-woman like you has got a hardier immune system than me, but," Ethan shrugged, soaking the small hand towel in water, "It pays to be safe."

With all the care in the world, Ethan ran the damp cloth over Bela's wounded skin. She bit down on her lip, free hand gripping the sink counter in the effort to relieve the tension. Ethan drew short, light strokes with each pass, clearing stray dirt from her mangled skin. He watched Bela's wincing face closely, ensuring he avoided applying any more pressure than what was strictly necessary. With each stroke, Ethan found the slightest degree of color returning to Bela's pale skin.

Well – she was still as pale as a snowman, but the pallor of her damaged flesh looked less lifeless. The darkest crevices of the claw-marks lost their harsh edges, turning purple and blue, and then finally a flushed pink.

His relief came out in a sigh. The warm water had done its job, and the pocket heaters would take care of the rest, if all went well. The more warmth, the better. He gently dabbed Bela's damp arm with a fresh hand towel to dry it, then set it aside.

Now that Bela's arm was released, she held it with her own hand, inspecting the wound. She looked equal parts concerned and relieved as she studied the damaged flesh.

Ethan untied the obnoxious red bow on top of the gift box. "Honestly, this isn't really what I had in mind when I planned on giving this to you. But…" He sighed, popping the lid off and setting it on the counter. "I'm glad it's gonna be of some use."

Bela watched Ethan in silence as he opened the package of pocket warmers. He picked out a single individually wrapped piece. With bitter irony, he ignored the smiling caricature of a wolf on the foil wrapper. Tearing it open, Ethan tugged the warmer out, allowing it to accumulate heat in his hands. Bela remained perfectly still, eyes on the heater.

Trying his luck, Ethan broached the subject, fidgeting with the warmer. "What 'errands' were you up to?" It took a conscious effort to avoid throwing a barrage of questions at her. "What were you doing out there?"

When met with Bela's silence, and her eyes staring holes into the floor, he sighed. "I… I know it's probably not my place to ask about you, and where you've been. I just," Ethan shrugged, shoulders sagging down. "I just wanna know why you risked your neck out there."

He had been worried sick about her as well, but Ethan kept that to himself for the moment.

Bela's amber eyes flicked to meet Ethan's for a split second, then fell back down. She radiated with tension once more. The thickness in the air had grown and amplified with each moment once Daniela had left them alone. His lame attempts at humor had been the only brief breaks to the nervous air.

It was worlds apart from the former ease with which they could feel around each other. Bela used to be so tactile around him. Always the first to put a hand on his arm or shoulder before wisecracking his way.

Now, it was like she was making an effort to stay out of arm's reach. She avoided his eyes, as if she risked turning to stone should she hold his gaze for long. Ethan could have ignored all the signs earlier, but now that they had piled up, there was no pretending not to see them. There was more to Bela's stiff demeanor than his blunder the other night.

Their argument, as bad as it may have been, could not be the sole source of Bela's discomfort. Something had happened while she was out there – unless this was all leftover adrenaline, or the makings of PTSD from the fight with some lycans. A fight she had walked away from, but at the cost of a gnarly wound and perhaps a little trauma. He had been in that position more times than he could count, so Ethan waited patiently for a response. He could only imagine how much worse it had been for Bela – nearly indestructible as she was, likely reminded of her mortality at the end of a lycan's claws.

Finally, Bela answered, evasive as ever, "I took a short trip and spoke to someone. It was long overdue."

Vague to hell and back, but it was something. It was her direct confirmation of having left the castle for whatever reason.

The warmer had heated up to what felt like its hottest. Answers could wait, but Ethan didn't want to waste precious heat needed to treat Bela's arm.

Ethan advanced a step closer, only for Bela to flinch back – almost reflexively. He halted his approach in an instant, scanning Bela and her deer-in-the-headlights expression. He did his best to keep his body language as open and approachable as possible. His vacant hand was turned open and exposed – to assuage any possible fears that he could mean her harm, for whatever reason. The heater was kept visible and plainly in sight.

"I know… things were pretty bad where we last left off." Ethan kept his voice soft, "I have a lot to apologize for, and a lot to say about that, but…" He let the pause hang for a moment as Bela's eyes, previously downcast, met his, "I dunno if you're just jumpy from your run-in with the lycans, but you're safe here, Bela." Running his tongue over his dry lips, he offered, "You just say the word if you want me to leave, so you can handle this yourself, or…"

The rest of his statement went unspoken, but the message was conveyed. The palpable tension in the air could not be ignored – not when Bela recoiled just seeing him approach.

"Am I?" Bela asked, "Am I safe here, Ethan?"

Ethan frowned. "What?"

Bela was silent for a long moment, chewing down on her bottom lip as she clutched onto her injured arm. "I'm sorry, it's just that I…" She appeared to grasp for her words, eyes darting around anywhere but on Ethan. She drew in a deep breath, and let the words tumble out slowly, "I learned a lot about you while I was out."

Oh.

"Like how you swept through the village and did not leave a single lycan alive in your wake." Bela gulped hard, eyes boring holes into her arm. "Like how you trained under Chris Redfield."

Oh.

Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths, and she mustered the will to meet Ethan's gaze. "I learned that, second to Redfield and his men, you are the most deadly man in the entire valley." Her trembling lips hung open for a second, "Especially to bioweapons like me."

Bela was afraid.

This wasn't about their argument at all – or her encounter with the lycans. This was all him.

After the storming raincloud had formed above Bela's head in the dining room, Ethan had absolutely no idea how it had not dawned on him sooner. Perhaps it was because of how ridiculous it seemed at a glance. The nigh invincible, shapeshifting bug-woman, afraid of a little man-thing like him? She could snap her fingers and that would be enough to send his head flying off his shoulders. It didn't make sense, and he hadn't even entertained that possibility.

But… when given the proper context, it all fell into place. He had not survived this long on dumb luck alone. In the right circumstances, Ethan didn't want to toot his own horn, but he knew he could be a force of nature – even to the seemingly indestructible Dimitrescu sisters. The dining room window, the library skylight – Ethan had everything at his disposal to turn their worlds upside down.

Prior to being locked up, Ethan was fully prepared to raise hell across the entire valley to find Rose. With a weapon in his hands and fire in his veins, nothing would have been able to stop him. If Bela had not elected to imprison him, those hooks in the bedchamber would have been child's play to escape from. The castle would be a cold, desolate ruin right now if he had gotten free. The maids would be the sole survivors of his onslaught.

If Bela learned of his hellish experience in the village, then it was only rational she'd grown a newfound wariness of him – of his profound ability to sow carnage when backed into a corner. Add the leftover jumpiness from her fight with the lycans, and it made perfect sense that she was flinching away from him – who she now perceived as a larger threat than she first thought. The confined space of the bathroom, with little room to move or run, could only serve to grate her nerves further.

Taking another breath, Bela's tone took a standoffish edge, "So, you will have to excuse me if I am tense."

Ethan shifted the heater from hand to hand, fidgeting with the corners. With each new day that came, Ethan's expectations were constantly subverted. This was not a conversation he ever thought he would have with Bela – with his captor. He was the prisoner; the little man-thing who, just yesterday, was nearly mauled to death by ghouls, beheaded by Cassandra, and strangled by Daniela. What business did he have reassuring his nigh invincible jailer that he was not a threat? It was preposterous to zoom out and think about it, yet such absurdity was an everyday aspect of his life in this castle.

All those titles and circumstances had to be stripped away. Only then could you look past the absurdity and see what mattered – see who each bioweapon in this castle truly was, as in the case of Bela and Daniela and, Ethan dreaded to think, Cassandra.

"Bela, nothing's changed, you know? I'm still the same person you locked up weeks ago." Softer still, Ethan added, "Same person you've bonded with over all those lunches and coffees." He gave a small smile. "Same idiot who nearly gave himself hypothermia while bathing with a bucket."

Bela was back to avoiding eye contact, choosing to stare at either her arm, or the stone floor underfoot.

He refrained from evasion, for whatever additional trust that would get him. "I dunno who you heard all that from, but it's true, okay? I'm not gonna deny any of that." Ethan only paused to gulp, fingers running over the warmer. "Chris took me in and taught me to fight, and I've… become one hell of a fighter, I guess." He shrugged, letting the truth settle for a moment. "But it still doesn't change anything, Bela."

Licking his lips, Ethan asked, "Are you worried I'm gonna hurt you? You know me better than that," He tried ducking his head slightly to meet her gaze. "You know I wouldn't."

Finally, Bela raised her head. She stopped grinding her teeth together to tell him, "I saw what you did to the Moroaice downstairs. They had you outnumbered ten-to-one." Bela swallowed hard. "Yet you got out of that in good enough shape to survive a fight with my sister." She gestured vaguely beyond the door and added, "I was in the village. All of those dead lycans, that was all your doing."

It wasn't a question, but Ethan confirmed just the same, "Yeah."

Bela drew in a deep breath. "It is different to me, Ethan – to know just what it is you are truly capable of."

Ethan spoke frankly, even as he kept his voice just above a whisper, "Bela, I've spent this entire," He let out a soft breath, almost akin to a laugh, "This whole relationship knowing you could tear me apart with your eyes closed." He paused for a beat, admitting, "That didn't change anything. Not in any way that mattered. Didn't change the way I looked at you."

The silence fell between them for a short while. Bela broke the quiet first, once she gathered her thoughts.

"That day in the dining room," Bela paused, almost as if she could hear his heart skip a beat. "You could have done it." Her hands fell to her sides, where they could ball into fists – as if it may help suppress the tremble in her voice. "You were thinking about it, weren't you? You could have killed me and gone on your way without breaking a sweat."

It was Ethan's turn for his eyes to fall to the floor.

"All it would have taken was to push that window open, and then…" Bela gulped, and no longer let the overbearing silence last for any longer than necessary. "Were you going to grab the chisel or the hammer?"

The hammer was his first choice. It would have been closer once he crossed the dining table.

He would know. The moment was also seared into his memory. He started, only to trail off, "I…"

Ethan had nothing good to say on the matter. The truth was painful, and any lies he had were flimsy – and he refused to lie to Bela. Yet how could Ethan admit that he had traced the plan of attack, ending with a hammer crushing Bela's skull to secure his freedom?

"You considered it." The weight in Bela's voice was crushing, yet not condemning, no – Ethan didn't sense for a moment that Bela was trying to use the incident against him.

She was sharing her fear – confiding in him just how much that incident had shaken her, now that it was illuminated by a fresh light.

Ethan wouldn't lie to her. But the honest answer was just as painful, and he didn't want to hurt Bela any more than he already had. He didn't want to give her any more reason to fear him. There existed no combination of words that spared Bela the slap in the face – the harsh reality that he would have killed her and gone on his way, had he not chosen mercy.

He turned it back to her, giving her what she needed to confirm her thoughts.

"What would you have done?" Ethan raised his eyes to meet Bela's golden irises. "If your family was on the line and you were in my shoes, what would you have done?"

Bela's eyebrows remained pitched together in that frown – a mix of fear, hurt, and sadness all in one. They held one another's eyes for an impossibly long moment before Bela finally looked away. She gulped down the lump in her throat, nodding.

She had her answer, and it was not a good one.

That window had been Ethan's crossroads. He had known there would be no turning back once he decided to shut and lock the window. While everything was complicated to hell and back, and his actions and thoughts were borderline insane, he didn't regret it. Befriending Bela was the right call, and he would never say otherwise.

Just because he could have simplified his life through the means of incredible violence, it didn't mean he should have. Life wasn't simple. It was a complex, tangled mess, and the castle was no different. Bela may be a bioweapon with a bloody past, but she was not defined by her litany of sins. She was more than her guilt, and her family's bloodlust. She was a kind, caring woman with a heart of gold. She was a tortured, unfortunate soul who sought to do good and make a difference in what little way she could. Getting to know Bela for who she was had changed everything.

Ethan took a long breath, deeper than the last. Wearing his heart on his sleeve had gotten him this far. It was all cards on the table now, or nothing.

"It's different now, Bela. Let's not pretend it isn't." Ethan held the warmer – hot to the touch – in both hands, still running his fingers along the sides. "Things have changed between you and me."

Bela raised her eyes up from the stone floor. Still with that lost frown on her face, she looked into his eyes.

"I wouldn't ever lay a finger on you. Not now, not after everything. Not after I've gotten to know you. The real you." His heart thumped in his chest and his nerves prickled white-hot. "Just thinking about that fucking window in the dining room makes me sick. And maybe," Ethan let out a soft laugh at himself, "Maybe I'm just batshit crazy and it doesn't make any sense – maybe I belong in a padded room, wearing a straitjacket, but I don't give a shit." Slowly, carefully, Ethan took half a step forward. "I know you mean well, and that you've been looking out for me ever since you put me in that cell."

Swallowing the nervous gulp in his throat, he continued when Bela did not step away. Instead, she held his gaze the entire time. "Aside from the blood," Ethan gave a careless shrug, "You never really asked for anything else. You just took care of me because…" He pursed his lips for a second and admitted, "I dunno, maybe because you thought it was the right thing to do, or just because you wanted to. Either way, I don't doubt that heart of yours."

"I might be rambling now," He gave himself a frustrated huff, "Point is, it's never mattered to me that you could kill me with one hand tied behind your back, or that you want to drink my blood sometimes. Doesn't change anything. You're not just some bioweapon to me, Bela. I haven't thought anything like that in a long time. You're…" Ethan bobbed a shoulder up, giving her a smile. "You're just Bela, and I… I care about you, okay?" Nerves jittery, he exhaled a shaky sigh, and his eyes landed on her wounded arm before returning to her face. "I thought you should know that."

It was the most relieving sight imaginable to see the smallest of smiles forming on Bela's features. Her brows remained pitched together, and she chewed on her bottom lip – but the earlier coalescence of fear and anxiety had eased away. Her eyes carried the faintest glassy shimmer. Bela whispered back, "Okay."

Her eyes flicked once to the heater in Ethan's hands, before they returned to his face. She gave him a nod – a shy, tentative movement, but no longer hesitant. Ethan took that as his cue to close the little remaining distance between them. Holding his hand out, Bela easily gave him hold of her wounded arm. Running his thumb across her skin, Ethan warned her, "Might sting a little, okay?"

At her nod, Ethan gingerly pressed the heater over the claw-marks. Bela took in a soft gasp of air, and her free hand quickly found Ethan's sweater, grabbing a fistful of his sleeve. She let the breath out in a long, shaky exhale. Her eyes closed, and a gentle crease formed at her brow. "Atta girl," Ethan watched her closely as he glided the heater in slow passes – making sure each gash was receiving sufficient warmth. "How's it feel?"

Her long lashes fluttered open, and she gave Ethan a smile, "It is… soothing now." Bela released the tight grip on Ethan's sweater, and her hand soon settled on top of his own, keeping the heater in place.

As uneven and rough as Bela's mangled skin was, it was regaining color. The last of the dark cracks vanished, as did most of the patches of deep blue and purple. It still left in question the larger matter – the missing chunks of flesh that had been clawed out. Or perhaps more precisely, the missing biomatter – to borrow some parlance from Chris. He had thrown that word around ad infinitum when debriefing over the Baker Incident, and how it was the Bakers survived and regenerated as much as they did.

"Would my blood help?" Ethan felt it was worth a shot. "It's the least I can do."

Bela tilted her head, eyeing him. "What?"

"Drinking my blood," Ethan repeated, "Would that help speed up your recovery?"

Bela's lips remained parted, as though she either hadn't thought of it, or hadn't expected the suggestion to come from him. "I am not sure. It might."

Probably far too casually, Ethan told her, "You're welcome to take a bite. Take as much as you need." When Bela shook her head, he insisted, "It's fine, really – I just wanna help."

"I appreciate the offer, truly." Bela gave his hand a squeeze, and the gratitude shone in her smile. "Perhaps later. I do not have much of an appetite." Then her smile took a wry look to it as she added, "Being covered in lycan blood can have that effect."

Ethan chuckled, then pursed his lips, nodding in agreement, "Yeah, I know the feeling for sure." A quick survey of the rest of Bela's person revealed that her coat – now discarded – had been the most soiled. Her sweater and jeans appeared free from any splatter of dark crimson. Her ensemble with the hood, scarf, and goggles similarly kept her pale face clean.

Gently, Bela withdrew her arm from Ethan's hold now that the warmer had consumed most of its potency. She smiled in earnest. "Thank you for looking after my arm, Doctor Winters."

"You're welcome, ma'am. Just pick up the bill from Miss Daniela, my secretary."

Bela huffed in amusement, giving him a look that seemed as amused as it was annoyed. Still peering at Bela's arm at her side, Ethan noted that the four angry gashes persisted, despite the gruesome discoloration having been dealt with.

Ethan said, "Doesn't feel like I did a whole lot, considering," He gestured to the gnarly scratches, leaving the rest of his statement unsaid. Bela studied the wound as well, then met his gaze, giving him a helpless shrug, as if to say that was as good as it was going to get.

"Are you just thanking me to make me feel useful?" Ethan cracked a smile, prompting Bela to roll her eyes.

She placed a hand on his side, ushering him towards the door. Bela replied, sarcasm thick in her voice, "You've found me out. This is the extent I go to ensure you feel good about yourself."

"Man," Ethan allowed Bela to nudge him out the doorway, repaying the irony in kind, "What would I do without you?"

Another soft chuckle from Bela and she shot back, "You would be engaged in some sort of doctor-secretary roleplay with Daniela, and I would rather not imagine that."

Ethan's strained grimace got a hearty laugh from Bela. Now that he was back in the bedroom, Bela reached for the gift box on the sink counter; she didn't spare the contents a single glance before returning it to Ethan. She leaned on the doorframe as Ethan adjusted his hold on the box, which was now overdue to be handed right back to Bela. He turned his quirked brow towards her, in silent question of his eviction from the bathroom.

"I am running on an… unreasonable amount of coffee right now, and it has been a long two days." Bela sighed, running a hand through her messy blonde hair. "I will get cleaned up and then run you a bath." She raised her arm in the direction of her bedroom, "Please, make yourself comfortable. I'll only be a moment."

Seeing Bela in the warm candlelight was quite the sight. Even with the odd tangles here and there, her golden hair shined bright. The simple grey sweater, rolled up at the elbows, looked exceedingly cozy. Her blue jeans were well-fitted and hugged all the curves Ethan tried not to ogle. And those boots – they were a nice pair of boots, lending a sense of rugged toughness to contrast the homely look. He had to wonder what a pair of Doc Martens would look like on Bela.

She was gorgeous.

The casual winter attire suited Bela.

Perhaps against his better judgment, Ethan chimed, "The clothes are a good look on you by the way."

Bela stopped in her tracks, hand on the doorknob. Her pale complexion turned a shade pinker once she got to retort, "Flattery may work on Daniela, but I assure you it will not get any preferential treatment from me."

"Preferential treatment?" Ethan repeated, unable to keep the amusement from his voice, "I thought I was already your favorite man-thing."

Bela scrunched her nose up in apparent displeasure. "You are the most annoying one, that's for sure." She didn't bother giving Ethan's shit-eating grin another look, instead shutting the door before he could reply. The door lock audibly clicked, and for good measure, Bela said, "No peeking."

Ethan scoffed and shot back, "What kinda person do you think I am?"

Through the door, Bela called, "One that I should not spend any time in closets with, according to Dani."

"Unbelievable," Ethan muttered under his breath, not bothering to grace Bela with a reply. He shook his head at the sound of Bela's soft laughter behind the door.

Alone now, Ethan kept his head on a swivel, taking in the room – Bela's room, and the oddity of knowing he was cleared to explore her space. With the open gift box in his hands, Ethan began slowly pacing. It was silent, save for his soft footfalls and the running water from the bathroom.

Maybe it was all the time he spent with Daniela, but he was drawn to the bookshelves first. The contents were a far cry from Daniela's extensive fiction collection. Bela's shelves focused on science, if Ethan had to sum it up. Anatomical and medical textbooks made up the brunt of the neat and tidy selection of books. If Bela ever did any light reading, those books in question were nowhere to be found in these shelves. Any sparkly vampire novels were likely well hidden, but Ethan wasn't about to open any drawers, or peer under Bela's mattress to check

By the corner, the nearby desks were pushed up to form an L-shape, and were as orderly as the bookshelves. Not a pen or notebook out of place (hopefully, Bela's compulsive need for organization was not at par with Daniela's). The sight of the familiar stationery pad got a smile from Ethan – the very same paper she had used to write him all those notes. Every single one was safely hidden in his journal, currently tucked in his pocket.

Ethan continued his aimless pacing, with a certain lightness in his step. He was cautiously optimistic of where things stood between them now that the initial ice had melted away. Once he got the proper apology out, things would be right as rain.

Although knowing his luck, his thinking of that may have jinxed it – but Ethan was crossing his fingers that this wasn't the case. He knew what to say, and how to say it, and all would be well.

His meandering steps brought him back to the dresser, and Bela's bed just to the side. The discarded coat, bundled up on the floor, demanded Ethan's attention. Ethan set the giftbox down on Bela's dresser, so he could pick up her coat. The down jacket was made to withstand the freezing temperatures outside, but it did little to ease the worry he felt – knowing she'd been in such danger to begin with. The dark blood coating much of the fabric hinted at the number of lycans she had encountered – or the utter level of violence required to deal with them. It was difficult to say which.

Further inspection of the jacket revealed no other rips or tears – no other clear injuries Bela may have sustained and concealed from sight. The claws had sheared their way through the fabric and right into Bela's arm. It was undoubtedly a close call, knowing how the lycans fought. They always targeted the neck and face, so Bela's forearm must have been all that stood between life and death in that fight.

It was a mystery what Bela had gotten herself hurt for. Answers would have to wait, and Ethan knew Bela would tell him in time, when she was ready. Getting his apology out was what could not wait, having been put off for long enough as is. Though it was only natural that it had gotten pushed back until after Bela got cleaned up. Defusing her newfound wariness of him was a must.

Ethan couldn't help but wonder where she had learned all that to begin with. Chris would not have divulged that information. He certainly wouldn't have even bothered talking to her at all. Ethan didn't want to consider the possibility that those revelations were what Bela had risked her life for. He would have gladly recounted his jaunt through the village and his history with Chris if she asked. If that's what it took to keep her safe and sound inside the castle.

Well – now it was easy to say that he would tell all.

Things were different now.

Ethan stared at the crackling fireplace, hands idly fiddling with the tear in Bela's jacket. The flames were not at all unlike the fire and brimstone in Ethan's veins when he first kicked the castle doors open. High on the adrenaline of surviving that meatgrinder deathtrap, he had been fully prepared to shoot first, ask questions later.

The squeaky-clean interior, the logbook, and even the painting of the identical sisters (who did not at all resemble the Dimitrescu Daughters), could not have prepared Ethan for the whirlwind of events that awaited him in the next room over.

The Ethan who had been dragged legs-first into Lady Dimitrescu's gaze was not the same Ethan he was today. That Ethan would not so readily tell Bela of the trials he survived to get to where he was now.

After setting the coat back down on the floor, Ethan's restless legs brought him back to Bela's desk. His eyes ran over the pencils, books, and loose yet neatly stacked pieces of paper. With little thought to it, Ethan eased himself onto the cushioned seat. His hand hovered over the pad of stationery for a moment, only to settle back at his side, as the countless notes rolled through his mind.

From Ethan and Bela to puppy and tapeworm.

How far they had gone in such a short span of time. How drastically different Bela was to who Ethan thought she was. How much more there was to Bela than the unhinged woman he'd first met, dragging him by the bleeding leg as she cackled like a maniac.

A wry smile formed on Ethan's lips to remember the mantra he'd chanted in his head to keep himself grounded – she caged him up, she drank his blood, she manipulated him into lowering his guard.

One of the most significant parts of Ethan's time under Chris had been his SERE training – Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape.

Ethan had defaulted to that, to a degree. Appearing harmless and defeated, endearing himself to his captors to get under their guard – that had been the game plan, once upon a time. All he had to do was bide his time and wait for Bela to slip. Chris had always said that it only took one fuck up to turn the tables and bring the pain – a single mistake, and they would regret ever capturing him.

The window standoff had been Bela's slip up, and was the opportunity Chris would have wanted him to take.

Ethan could hardly believe that was only two weeks ago. It felt like he'd been here for months.

The ease with which he could talk to Bela made it feel like they'd known each other for that long. They could speak about nearly anything under the sun and find common ground.

Keyword there was 'nearly.'

If Ethan had to be brutally honest with himself, he knew he wouldn't have told Bela the nitty-gritty of his training with Chris. Because, frankly, how would that conversation even go?

By the way, Bela, I've spent the past three years training to kill bioweapons such as yourself. I've actually kind of already been through this once before. You and your sisters don't even hold a candle to Jack Baker and his little family of psychos. So, yeah – just thought you should know I could kill you with a broken window and my bare hands.

Not quite the coffee chitchat that he and Bela were used to.

This – Bela's wariness and fear of him – was precisely why he had avoided that topic over the past few weeks. Not because he was worried of losing some advantage or element of surprise over her, but because he didn't want Bela to look at him any differently.

And Ethan, being the crazy person he was, did not want to scare his jailer. He blew out a sigh and pushed himself up and off Bela's chair. At least now, and Ethan felt it was for the better – the cat was largely out of the bag, and their strange relationship was intact. He owed her a brief recollection of his nightmare at the Baker House one of these days to tie up any loose ends she didn't know.

Pacing the open space of the room, he glanced around for any sort of distraction – taking note of a small mechanical alarm clock on Bela's bedside table. It failed to tell him how much time had passed, since he had no idea what time Bela left him to his own devices.

The sound of running water continued to pour out, and Ethan stopped a short distance away from the bathroom door. In an odd way, it was nice to know that Bela took her time in the shower, much like every other woman Ethan had come to know. Lord knows how long he had to wait for his turn whenever Mia was in the bathroom.

"Still alive in there?" Ethan called, if for no other reason than to keep himself occupied.

"Quite close to falling asleep while standing up, but yes."

He wasn't sure whether to be amused by the idea, or concerned by her exhausted state.

"Well, don't. I'd rather not explain to your mom why you slipped in the bath and cracked your head open."

Bela's laughter carried through the door. "I think that would be an entertaining conversation to witness, honestly. Don't tempt me."

Ethan shook his head, a fond smile on his lips. The familiar sound of a hair drier grew audible by the time he stopped in front of Bela's dresser.

He glanced once at the drawer Bela had locked the photo in. Even if it was unlocked, Ethan had learned his lesson by now. His reminder not to snoop was imprinted on his wrist and neck in black and blue. If Bela wanted to talk about it, she would.

He scanned the surface instead, and the neatly arranged jewelry – some necklaces, rings, and earrings, both silver and gold, all of which Ethan hadn't seen Bela wearing before. Most notable were her usual necklace of trinkets, and the shining red pendant; the latter sat atop a small suede cushion. He hummed to himself at that observation, and the small realization that followed – that Bela in her casual Friday attire was only the second time he'd seen her without the necklace and pendant.

The first time was, of course, their unforgettable night sharing a bed.

Absentmindedly, he gingerly picked the pendant up. Ethan admired the fine details of the dark metal strap. He ran a careful finger over the intricate patterns. It hardly looked comfortable, given all the pointy edges and sharp angles running along the strap. But what did a man-thing like him know? He could, at the very least, appreciate the craftsmanship that went into the jewelry, and the brilliant shine of the gemstone.

It was probably worth more than his house.

The bathroom door swung open, and out stepped Bela. Absorbed in his inspection of the pendant, he hadn't noticed that the sound of Bela's hair drier had ceased. Ethan just hoped he didn't look too weird holding onto her jewelry like he was.

Bela was back in her usual dark dress, and was running a brush through her hair as she walked. Once more, the sharp click of her heels was absent, as was the weighty thud of her boots. Instead, she lightly padded across the floor in a pair of blue slippers.

"You changed," Ethan voiced his observation, not quite realizing how dumb he may have sounded until after the words got out.

"How astute of you," Bela remarked. She approached Ethan as she continued brushing her hair. "I had to. I did not want you ogling me any more than you usually do."

With the pendant still in hand, Ethan swallowed down the building sheepishness. He made a show of narrowing his eyes in her direction. "Just for that, I'll ogle you twice as hard now."

Bela grunted out a quick, "eugh," before stopping in front of Ethan. She ran the brush through her wavy locks a final time before gathering them up in her hands and holding them over one shoulder. She kept the nape of her neck exposed as she turned to give Ethan her back. "Since you're already holding that, do you mind?"

It took Ethan a second to connect the dots – glancing at the red pendant in his hands, and then at Bela's slender neck.

He cleared his throat. "Sure."

Slowly, gently, carefully – Ethan eased the pendant around Bela's neck, fumbling with the clasp for only a moment. With a soft, light click, it locked into place. He had gotten his share of practice from helping Mia with her own necklaces over the years.

Perhaps that was why his hands settled onto Bela's shoulders afterwards – some leftover force of habit that guided his movements. Ethan's hands trailed down to her arms, thumbs stroking the fabric of her dress.

Ethan tried not to notice the small shiver Bela failed to suppress.

"All good." His voice was soft – as if speaking any louder might draw attention to the strange borderline intimacy of helping Bela with her jewelry.

Bela craned her head over her shoulder as she told him, "Your bath is ready. I filled the tub for you."

Now or never.

Ethan gave Bela's arms a final squeeze, and he asked, "You mind if…" The nervousness in his voice was a challenge to conceal. "If we talk first?"

Bela eased out of Ethan's hold so she could turn and face him. Her eyes went over his shoulder for a moment – undoubtedly to the gift box on her dresser. When they returned to him, she asked back, "About what?"

"About the other night." Ethan took a breath. "About those things I said." His fingers fluttered at his sides in contained anxiety. His mouth opened and closed, failing to start a dozen different apologies – or perhaps overwhelming himself in the process of mashing together all the things he wanted to say at once. He settled on simplicity and got straight to the point. "I'm sorry, Bela."

The recognition grew clear in Bela's eyes, followed by sorrow. The hurt was pulled right back up to the surface. Her brows furrowed together, and she averted her gaze. "Oh." A sigh, deep and laden with weight, slipped out. "No, no. Don't worry about that. That was nothing."

Bela's attempt at deflection fell flat. It didn't take a particularly empathetic or observant person to see that – see how Bela's entire being appeared to slump over and sag in dejection. All it took was for her to recall that damned night.

"It wasn't nothing, Bela." He frowned to think of it – of his words and his tone and his frustrations he'd taken out on her. "I was out of line and acting like an asshole,"

"You were just looking after Rose," Bela shook her head, eyes glued to Ethan's chest. "You were well within your right to be angry. I… I understand that now."

"Yeah, but," Ethan scoffed, more at himself than anything else, "It's not an excuse for me to be a jackass and say what I said. Doesn't give me the right to step on your feelings." He had to actively suppress the urge to reach for her – to hold her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things to you."

Still, Bela shook her head, and the frown persisted. "You barely know about what happened to me, Ethan…" She whispered, "I cannot blame you for that."

"You told me enough," Ethan was quick to reply. Bela had shared an important part of herself with him, and he was not going to forget that anytime soon. "I should have known better than to act like you haven't been hurt. That you haven't lost people." Daniela's warning was still fresh in his mind. "I may not know the whole story, but," Ethan gestured towards her, "I know you lost an entire life, Bela. I'm sorry for using that against you. I never should have done that."

The silence stretched on for what seemed like forever, and it only served to let Ethan's nerves eat him alive. To fill the still air, he went on, "I know I crossed a line, and if you can't forgive me – I respect that. Your feelings are completely valid." He gestured with his hands as he spoke – a small release for his anxiety. "Just… I…" One would think that years of marriage would have prepared Ethan to give better apologies; apparently, this was not the case. "You didn't deserve all that shit I gave you. I'm sorry."

The quiet did not extend for as long as the last bout had. Bela took in a long, deep breath, and let it out just as slowly. Bit by bit, Bela's eyes trailed up from his chest until finally landing on his face – meeting his own anxious eyes.

A small smile formed on her face. "No harm done, Ethan. Apology accepted." Her eyes flitted away for a moment before returning. "I appreciate it."

The weight of guilt eased off Ethan's shoulders; he felt lighter. At the same time, the (far less crushing) heft of responsibility set into place – knowing that Bela was giving him a chance, and it was up to him to use it.

"Well, there was some harm done." Ethan half-joked at his own expense to help further banish the tension, "When your sister came after me the morning after, I kinda felt like I deserved it, in case you sent her after me."

Bela's brows pitched together, and her voice hurried out as she shook her head fervently, "No – you know I would never do that. That is preposterous, I would never –"

"I know," Ethan smiled to alleviate her distress before it could build. His hand landed on her arm, squeezing gently. "I know better now and I'm sorry for ever doubting you." He licked his lips, adding, "For hurting you."

Bela placed her hands on his chest as she peered up at him. His heart began to hammer in his chest, and he could only hope it wasn't too apparent to Bela. Luckily, her hands trailed up, sliding over his neck. Gingerly, her thumb brushed over the bruises Daniela had left. She finally settled her hands over his cheeks, cupping his face. With a featherlight touch, she stroked the fresh scar on his cheek, and then the splotches of black and blue under his eye – Cassandra's parting blows.

"It's okay." Bela smiled, biting her lip in a shy manner before adding, "We're okay, little one."

Ethan let out a soft huff – a ghost of a laugh. The glimmer in Bela's eyes sent his mind haywire. The way she looked at him – especially that smile, that damn smile he missed so much. Ethan closed his eyes, as it was all he could do to stop himself from drinking in the sight of her like a parched sailor. He tilted his head forward, gently resting his forehead against Bela's. Her breath fanned his face – the makings of a contented sigh.

His hands had a mind of their own, choosing to settle on her waist. His mouth, similarly, had a mind of its own. The words came out in a whisper, "I'm glad you're safe."

Just as softly, Bela said, "Likewise."

They basked in one another's presence for a moment longer – content to simply breathe the same air and share the same space that was theirs and nobody else's.

The feelings of relief trickled in with each second that passed, building until the dam burst, and he couldn't help but tug Bela closer, wrapping her up in a tight hug. She was all too happy to respond in kind; she snaked her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his sweater. She nuzzled his chest and released a shaky breath.

Ethan buried his face in her wavy hair. Unsurprisingly, she didn't smell like a bakery this time around, but the fresh scent of berries – her shampoo, probably, was equally endearing. The sigh slipped out of his lips of their own accord, relieved and content.

They were okay.

Bela was safe and warm, away from the cold beyond the castle and all the threats that came with it. She was in one piece, in his arms, and they were okay.

Ethan trailed his hand up, running through her wavy hair. The languid brushing motions led to his palm gently cupping her head. With little extra thought to it, all the swirling affection and joy came together – and he turned his head, planting a kiss on Bela's temple. His lips lingered there for a while longer, and any words he may have wished to whisper out stalled in his throat.

But nothing truly needed to be said. He had already said plenty. He just held Bela close, enjoying her presence – the relief that came with feeling her in his arms, where she was safe and whole.

If he had Rose back, cradled and secure in one arm, there wasn't much more he could complain about. As long as Cassandra didn't plan any more games, he could survive. His situation could be far, far worse. Chris could take as long as he needed to wipe Miranda off the face of the earth and bust him out. Ethan would make do in Castle Dimitrescu until then.

Just wait until the BSAA's therapists got hold of him. They would be more than a little alarmed by how comfortable he was in 'captivity.'

Bela mumbled against his sweater, "What is in the box, anyway? Aside from the warmers."

Smiling into Bela's hair, Ethan answered, "That's your surprise."

It got an interested hum from Bela. With her face pressed into his sweater, the sound reverberated against his chest. She audibly sniffed and pulled back, arms loosely wrapped around Ethan's neck. Unsmiling, she informed him, "Well, you smell like stale Moroaică blood and dearest Daniela, so I have to ask…" Bela bit down on her lip for a second at the sight of Ethan's unamused face. "Can the surprise wait until after you have cleaned up?" Her fingers played with the hair on the nape of his neck, having grown out now in the two-ish weeks of captivity. "I promise I won't take a peek in the box."

Trying his luck, Ethan asked back, "Will you tell me what you were doing outside the castle?"

Bela groaned softly and replied, "It is a loooong story." She drew her hands back over to his shoulders, squeezing him. "I will tell you after your bath, hmm?" Bela hummed. "No reason to waste hot water."

A proper, hot bath sounded heavenly, so Ethan didn't push the issue further. "It's a deal."

Despite the mutual agreement, they remained in place. Bela held onto Ethan's shoulders, and Ethan's hands were fixed to Bela's waist, thumbs stroking her ribs. Their eyes ran over one another's faces – taking each other in, as if stopping for just a moment was unbearable.

Ethan could already hear Daniela's voice in his head, full of incessant teasing, and the demand to hurry up and kiss already.

But that was preposterous, of course. Ethan had no such urge to kiss Bela.

Even if Bela's lips were as full and inviting as they were.

Even if he did get the errant thought of biting her lip for a change, just so that she would stop doing so.

Ethan did them both a favor and initiated the break in contact – since he was growing wary of the unwise thoughts bouncing around in his skull, and it was clear Bela was in no rush to separate. They were both a little too reluctant to step away from one another.

He wasn't eager to let go of Bela – not after being apart from her, and feeling just so happy to have her back. He would be lying if he even thought of denying it. So, they lingered until the last moment. Inch by inch, his hands drew back, fingers brushing against her dress and the home they had found at the curve of Bela's waist. As Ethan stepped back and out of the embrace, Bela's own fingertips grazed over his shoulders, and her hands did not leave until the very tip of her nails came free from his sweater.

Bela cleared her throat, and her fingers fluttered at her sides. She tucked a few strands of blonde hair behind her ear, wearing a shy smile as she led the way to the bathroom. Ethan followed her in, crossing the threshold and finding the tub was indeed ready for him.

A thin layer of steam wafted up from the water, warm and inviting. Bubbles populated every square inch of the water's surface; the artificial fragrance of fruit permeated the air. Bela had neglected to mention the part where the hot bath she had run for him was a bubble bath. Ethan had to turn to Bela and ask, "Why?"

Bela's eyes darted away for a beat, then returned. "It's a bath bomb," She shrugged, "It is good for your skin."

Ethan swore the blonde before him had more and more in common with Mia than he first thought. The tub back at home was irreversibly stained pink thanks to Mia's fondness for the bubbly abominations.

"Not to mention, it will kill those unpleasant smells of yours," Bela flashed a toothy grin, "Stale blood and my sister included."

With little recourse but to shrug right back, Ethan began taking his shoes off.

Like a dutiful host, Bela motioned to the stone shelving carved out of the wall, and the collection of bottles of all shapes and sizes therein. "The shampoo, conditioner, soap, shower gels – they are all there. Just help yourself. Holler if you need anything."

Ethan was a simple man. A bar of soap and some shampoo would have sufficed. Hell, even some laundry detergent or car shampoo would work in a pinch if he was desperate enough. This was overkill. But taking his last poor excuse for a bath into account, he was overdue a little self-care.

"Where's the salt and pepper?" Ethan asked, as he could never pass up a good jab Bela's way.

Bela blinked. "What?"

"Y'know – all the other stuff you're gonna use for the broth you'll make out of me. Any veggies in there?" Ethan made a show of peering into the bubbly water, "I'd probably taste delicious with some onions."

Bela scrunched her nose in displeasure. When Ethan laughed at her expression, she nudged him in the ribs. "Keep that up and I'll be sure to leave my door unlocked. It would be a shame if somebody told Daniela you were naked and defenseless in my bathroom."

Ethan guffawed, "You wouldn't."

"Don't try me." Bela wagged a finger at him, stepping back to the doorway. When she was sure her warning was delivered – biting down her smile and all – she added, "Take your time. I will fetch a change of clothes from your cell."

"Thanks, Bela." Ethan smiled. "I appreciate it."

With that, the door clicked shut, and Ethan was left to his steamy, bubbly bath. Not one to waste hot water, Ethan began tugging his clothes off. The simple act of standing naked in Bela's bathroom was such a stark contrast to doing the same in his cell. The hot, steamy air staved off even the slightest chill, and he wasn't bound to get himself early-stage hypothermia bathing here.

He really was an idiot for turning her offer down back then.

Ethan folded his clothes into a neat pile on the floor. While Bela did have a simple beige laundry basket tucked into one corner – he could even glimpse her freshly doffed jeans and sweater within – he avoided mixing their clothes. He didn't have the slightest clue how the Dimitrescu family handled laundry day.

Ethan did not want Bela's mother to slice him to ribbons, if she ever found his and Bela's underwear in the same laundry basket.

Wearing nothing but the wedding ring on the chain around his neck, Ethan eased into the bathtub. The long, breathy sigh slipped out almost automatically. Before he completely turned into a limp noodle, Ethan made sure to dunk his entire head in once for good measure, ensuring his hair was thoroughly soaked. He scrubbed the back of his head in the hopes of cleaning whatever stray blood Bela had seen earlier. Although without a mirror, there was no way of telling if he'd gotten it all. Rather than worry about some leftover blood, he sank into the water, resting his back on the tub's wall and savoring the warmth.

"Fuck. Yes," Ethan muttered under his breath.

To think he had rejected this in favor of splashing himself with cold water from a bucket. He ought to smack himself upside the head the next time he got any bright ideas like that. His tense and sore muscles – still a little worked up from the brutal fights of yesterday morning – uncoiled and relaxed. Even the pesky sore spot in his lower back relented, ceasing its occasional dull throbs. Ethan rolled his neck in slow circles; it eased away the last of the stiffness from falling asleep sitting on Daniela's sofa.

He released another thoroughly satisfied sigh, resting his arms on the sides of the tub. It beat freezing to death while bathing with a bucket any day.

Ethan could get used to this. If this kept up, Castle Dimitrescu's Trivago rating would bump up a few stars in no time.

The food is sublime, the service is killer, and the wine is to die for. Come for the stay of a lifetime – as short as that lifetime may be.

A gentle knock came from the bathroom door, followed by Bela calling out, "Ethan?"

Curiously, Ethan called back, "What's up?"

There was a pause, stretching on for longer than Ethan expected. He could picture Bela behind the door, running a hand through her hair or clasping her hands together to stop the fidgeting – but over what? What was she hesitating over?

Finally, her voice started, "May I come in?"

Ethan's cheeks grew warm.

He had not misheard that.

The door was unlocked, so nothing but Ethan's word kept her from entering the room. And to do what? Ethan could only guess. He was butt-ass naked in her bathtub and he could not fathom why Bela would want to step in. This wasn't his cell – they couldn't just sit down, shoulder to shoulder, and chat the hours away.

This was different.

Ethan's eyes went to the opposite end of the tub, and he was keenly aware that there was room for both of them.

Before Ethan could question her, Bela spoke again, "Just to talk…"

Ethan raised his brows for a second and swallowed hard.

This was not the most opportune time or place to have a conversation. Ethan did not typically enjoy chatting with people in the nude – and perhaps Mia was the one exception. But that was Mia, and they did a lot more than just talk while they were naked in the same room or bathtub.

Just to talk.

Yeah, he'd heard that one before, and next thing he knew, Mia was handcuffing him to the faucet.

"I have much to talk about, and…" Bela paused, and Ethan could see her clear as day taking a deep breath. "I missed talking to you…" A beat passed and her voice came just above a whisper, "A lot."

No more than a few slow seconds ticked by before Bela's voice turned even softer. "I missed you."

Even though Bela couldn't witness it, he ducked his head for a second – as though it would hide the warmth in his cheeks.

When she pleaded as sincerely and honestly as that, Ethan was powerless to say no. While they had not been apart for that long, it certainly felt like it. He would also be lying to himself if he said he didn't miss talking to her.

Ethan could swear time was warped in this castle, with the way his weeks of imprisonment felt like months – especially with the way his relationship had progressed with Bela. Yet even when taking that into account, chatting with her in a bathtub was completely outside the bounds of his imagination, until today.

A glance at the frothy, bubbly water was all it took for Ethan to make up his mind. The potent bath bomb did a sufficient job of protecting his dignity. You couldn't see past the water's surface, and that was good enough. Bela could just drop another bath bomb into the water if the bubbles began to dissipate.

Bela spoke up again, her matter-of-factly tone disguising the clear nervousness. "I also just want to be sure you won't drown yourself."

Ethan snorted out a laugh.

"What kind of host would I be if I allowed my guest to drown in my bathtub?" Hearing Bela's voice alone, Ethan could picture her smile.

"You got some pool floaties with you?" Ethan joked right back, "Maybe a life vest?"

Bela's slight laugh was audible behind the door. "I can place an order with the Duke, if you wish."

"Wow," Ethan muttered, grinning ear to ear. He raised his voice to reply, "Nah. Knowing how weird the Duke's stock can be, he might have a vest from the Titanic or something. I don't want a haunted life vest."

"The ghost might make you extra buoyant though," Bela rebutted.

Leaning his head back, Ethan laughed silently. He shook his head fondly. "Yeah, you got me there."

Even without stepping through the door, they were already talking and poking fun at each other like idiots. What was one less door to separate them? They had already smashed so many boundaries, especially that night they shared a bed; what was one more boundary knocked down? In the grand scheme of things, this wasn't much.

(It was, but it was easier on his sanity and his rising nervousness to pretend that it wasn't.)

But at the end of the day, this was Bela. He trusted her without question.

"Yeah," Ethan muttered to himself before raising his voice, "Come in."

After a brief bout of hesitancy, the knob turned, and Bela nudged the door open. Bela stepped in, carrying a stool in one hand. She shut the door and turned to face Ethan, pressing her lips together and biting down on them – as if nervous again, having not expected him to actually let her in. To help ease their collective nerves, Ethan resorted to being a goof.

"I dunno how you do it." Ethan frowned in a show of wonder.

Tilting her head, Bela asked, "Do what?"

"It's like – Vampire Defense 101 – I'm not supposed to invite you in, but I did anyway."

Bela released a laugh in a hot breath. She pointedly reset her expression into a mask of neutrality. Nodding seriously, she hummed, "Mhm, you have fallen into my evil trap. What shall I do with you now, Mr. Winters?" The corner of her lips twitched with a smile as she rubbed her chin in thought, "What nefarious plans do you imagine I have in store?"

"Well, since I'm not seeing any vegetables floating around in here," Ethan splashed a hand in the water to double check, "You're probably gonna bore me to sleep, and I'll accidentally drown in this tub." Ethan replied with a perfectly straight face.

There was no stopping the laughter now from either of them, as dumb as it all was. The giggles continued to spill out in spite of the hand Bela pressed to her lips.

Ethan missed this. The sweet sound of Bela's unabashed mirth. The lighthearted verbal jabs. Her quick wit, sharper than any blade.

He missed her.

When their laughter settled down, Bela wore a sheepish expression. The stool moved in small swings as she motioned towards him with her free hand. "May I?"

He wasn't too sure where this was going, but he wasn't entirely opposed to whatever it was.

What he was sure of was that his cheeks were a shade pinker now. He could blame that on the steamy water and whatever was in the fragrant bath bomb. To overcome his own nerves, Ethan cracked a smile and quipped, even as he nodded his consent. "Didn't realize you were here to give me the full spa treatment. Am I gonna get a manicure too?"

Bela snorted a laugh. "This is part of Castle Dimitrescu's first class customer service policy." Bela winked at Ethan. "We learned that from the Duke."

"Ah. Why am I not surprised?" Ethan laughed softly as Bela approached with slow steps. He watched her movements just as the chuckles diminished, lapsing into silence. Ethan tried not to look at her too intently the closer she got to his very naked self.

He definitely tried not to picture her sitting across him on the other side of the tub, her toned, bare shoulders peeking out from above the bubbly water.

He tried even harder not to wonder if her skin, pale and smooth as porcelain, turned a lovely shade of pink when subjected to the steamy water. Bela's dress could leave much to the imagination, and current circumstances were cranking his mind into overdrive.

Bela placed the stool down by the head of the bathtub, just behind Ethan. Bela took her seat, and Ethan craned his head back to look at her. She was in the process of rolling up her dress sleeves, so Ethan felt the need to assure her, "I was kidding about the spa treatment. You don't have to… y'know."

"I know," Bela smiled, eyes avoiding his for just a beat. "But…" She dipped her hands into the bubbly water, gathering some in her hands. The water was then doused into Ethan's hair, and her fingers massaged his scalp for a second. "Is this okay?"

Ethan's eyes closed as the tingles ran from his head, down his spine, and throughout his entire body. He utterly failed to suppress a shiver. "Yeah," He cleared his throat as his exposed skin prickled with goosebumps. "That feels good."

He felt Bela's hands glide down past his face, pausing by the black and blue of his neck. Her fingers lingered, tenderly stroking the bruised skin to examine the damage. A displeased hum warmed the back of his neck – likely at the sight of the jagged scars Cassandra's teeth had left. Bela's attentive fingertips then ventured over to his shoulders next, and Ethan opened his eyes to find Bela's hand stopping by his upper arm.

Intuitively, Ethan bent his arm at the elbow, bringing his hand closer for Bela to get a look. Her soft hand, damp now from the bubbly water, took hold of his. She delicately inspected his bruised wrist with that caring touch of hers. The sigh she released was a tired one.

"I hope Daniela was not too rough with you. I know she can be…" Bela's thumb traced over the imprints of her sister's fangs. "Difficult."

"Hit a couple of rough spots, yeah," Ethan admitted. "Some close calls, but," He glanced at Bela's fingers tracing the puncture marks on his wrist, "I think you put that together already." He raised his shoulders in a slight shrug. "Wasn't all bad. I survived."

Bela hummed softly, setting his hand back down on the side of the tub. "I apologize for leaving you with her for so long."

"It's all good," Ethan assured her. "She's a sweet girl. Just…" He took a breath. The relief of no longer having to tiptoe around Daniela for the entire day sunk in. Ethan could handle her perfectly fine in smaller, healthier doses in the future. "She can be exhausting sometimes, yeah."

Under Bela's charge, he could be his usual self. No latent anxiety over setting her off into a murderous mood swing. No being sent to fight a dozen basement ghouls over a game of fetch.

The words tumbled out easily, "I'm glad to be back with you, tapeworm." Ethan craned his head back to meet her gaze, his heart already swelling to see her smiling at him. "I missed this."

Ethan could melt right then and there seeing the sweetness in Bela's honey golden eyes. Her hands drew a languid path back, so she could cross her arms over his chest – essentially hugging him from behind. She bent over to plant a kiss on his forehead, setting his skin alight with tingles.

Bela's lips brushed against his skin as she whispered, "I'm glad to have you back, puppy."

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Do be sure to hit those fave and follow buttons, and leave me a review to let me know how you liked this chapter!

I truly hope you enjoyed the much anticipated reunion, tense as it may have started out. I felt like after Bela got Karl's info dump, it would be too hard to ignore Ethan's ability to kill her with a pencil if he so wished. After her encounter with the lycans, she's just all the more on edge when she's finally alone with Ethan, and it takes a little talking from Ethan to walk her back from that edge. Everything is right as rain for them once they're able to talk heart to heart.

Like I mentioned earlier, this reunion mini-arc will stretch out for a few more chapters, so we've got plenty of time to see where this bathtime fun of theirs will lead. Lots to do, and I hope you're as excited as I am.

And of course, that surprise that I mentioned can be seen here in this imgur link, just slap it together after the usual URL : / a / h6rfUXl I commissioned this months ago from the great and powerful Anna Sassi. You can find her handles in the link. I had this done some time back, even if we were still so far from that point in the story. So, it's such a joy to finally unveil it here now that we've caught up. Be sure to follow Anna on her socials, and shoot her some love if you feel so inclined. I was a big fan of hers when I first saw her RE Village art start popping up, and I knew in an instant I'd want to commission something from her. Well worth every penny if you ask me.

I'll give you fellas a heads up: I'm leaving you on this happy note/chapter for an extra week. I need to play catch up with my writing, and take a short break to rest my creative juices. So, expect the next chapter around the weekend of the 27th, rather than the 20th. I'm sure you'll survive. Until then, stay safe out there, and I'll catch you around soon!