How the Ice King Became my Doting Billionaire Husband

Stuart was seething with a barely controlled fury, his voice a forced whisper as he tried to calm himself. "I'm not blaming you. There's just a better way, less painful."

Morwenna shook her head, her voice steady, "It's okay. I'm not afraid of pain. Anesthetics don't work on me anyway. Better a short agony than a long one."

"What? Anesthetics don't work on you!" Fletcher exclaimed in shock.

"Yeah, remember when I tumbled down that hill? I had to grit my teeth and bear it. Painkillers don't touch me unless it's enough to knock me out cold."

Both Stuart and Fletcher were visibly shaken.

Morwenna managed a weak smile, "Don't worry, I'm used to it. Really, pain doesn't scare me."

She tried to reassure them with her smile, but the blood smeared across her face only highlighted her radiance.

Fletcher, lost in thought, stared at her. She lit up like the sun.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, Fletcher diverted his gaze. "I... I'll go get the splint."

He hurried out of the room.

At the door, Fletcher took a deep breath and pinched his thigh to snap out of his daze. After all, Morwenna was Stuart's girl.

In the room, Morwenna blinked up at Stuart, who stood by the bed, his aura unstable.

She called out timidly, "Stuart."

It was as if he couldn't hear her, his mind wrapped in a violent storm of protective rage, wanting to pulverize anyone who dared hurt Morwenna.

Sensing his distress, Morwenna reached out with her newly bandaged arm and gently tugged at Stuart's shirt.

"Stuart," she murmured softly, which brought Stuart back from his dark reverie.

Her hand was crusted with dried blood, her appearance disheveled, yet Stuart didn't push her away, Instead, he stepped closer.

He tried to wipe the blood from the corner of her eye, but he couldn't.

Morwenna spoke gently, "Stuart, I'm okay. You should take care of yourself."

His injuries weren't visible, but his white shirt was splattered red like a gruesome tie-dye. The scariest was a gash on his neck.

Stuart remained silent, fetched a towel, and dabbed it in warm water, gently cleaning Morwenna's face.

Earlier, she had knocked someone out with her forehead, which was now split open, bleeding down her face and matting her eyelashes, making her look quite the mess.

He was so close, his usual indifferent gaze now filled with a tender concern as he looked at her.

Morwenna had never seen this side of Stuart. Despite the pain throbbing through her body, she felt a bashful warmth.

"Stuart, I can do it myself…"

Stuart's voice was a soft command, "Wenna, stay still. Don't move."

Morwenna blushed, grateful that the blood on her face hid her embarrassment.

After Stuart had cleaned her face, the scar on her forehead was even more pronounced.

Fletcher returned, setting Morwenna's fractured index finger in a splint.

Through it all, Morwenna didn't cry out in pain, though a fine sheen of sweat covered her forehead. All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

Stuart, anxious and somewhat helpless by her side, wasn't sure how to assist her.

Suddenly, he lightly stroked her hair as if soothing a fragile kitten.

In a tone Fletcher had never heard before, soft and gentle, he reassured, "It's okay. You'll be alright soon."