For no good reason, he thought of Nalla’s infant skin, so incredibly smooth and completely unmarred. Everyone remarked on how soft it was. Bella. All his brothers. All the shellans of the house. It was one of the first things they commented on when they held her. That and how she was like a down pillow, she was so huggable.

“Have you ever tried to get those removed?” Doc Jane said softly.

“They can’t be removed,” he said briskly, dropping his hand. “The ink has salt in it. It’s permanent.”

“But have you ever tried? There are lasers now that—”

“I’d better go take care of this cut so I can finish here.” He grabbed another paper towel. “I’ll need some gauze and tape—”

“I have that in my bag.” She turned to go over to the table. “I have everything—”

“No, thanks, I’ll take care of it myself.”

Doc Jane stared up at him, her eyes clear. “I don’t care if you’re independent. But stupidity I won’t stand for. We clear? That bench has your name on it.”

If she’d been one of his brothers, he would have bared his fangs and hissed at her. But he couldn’t do that to Doc Jane, and not just because she was a female. Thing was, there was nothing to push back at with her. She was just objective medical opinion.

“We clear?” she prompted, utterly unimpressed by how fierce he had to be looking.

“Yeah. I hear you.”

“Good.”

“He has these nightmares…God, the nightmares.”

Bella leaned down and stuffed the dirty diaper into the bin. On the way back up, she snagged another Huggies from under the dressing table and brought out the talc and the baby wipes. Palming Nalla’s ankles, she hipped up her daughter’s little butt, did a fast-and-dash sweep with the cloth, sprinkled some powder, then slid the fresh diaper into place.

From across the nursery, Phury’s voice was low. “Nightmares about being a blood slave?”