Underwater: The Silent Luna novel Chapter 73

Chapter 73

When she was done with both legs, they carefully got off the bed and made their way to the bathroom.

The transition was quiet and unhurried, a shared movement that felt strangely intimate in itself. Ethan steadied himself with

controlled motions while Meadow stayed close, her hand hovering just enough to offer support without insult. Steam/began to

gather as the water warmed, curling softly through the air like breath.

When the stream finally fell over them, it washed away the tension in slow, soothing layers.

Meadow helped clean him with gentle, attentive movements, her hands soft, reverent, moving over him not with the caution of obligation, but with the quiet certainty of belonging. Every touch carried intention, never rushed, never hesitant. She treated his

body not as fragile, not as damaged, but as something worthy of care.

When it was her turn, Ethan drew her onto his lap beneath the falling water, holding her steady as he washed her body slowly, deliberately, his hands learning her in quiet worship. Water slid over her shoulders, down her spine, over skin that shimmered under his touch. His fingers traced her like he was memorising her in pieces.

His desire for her burned fiercely.

It pressed against the inside of his ribs, restless and demanding.

He wanted to make love to her.

To seal what was already growing between them.

To prove, to her and to himself, that he could still give her everything a husband should.

But uncertainty held him back.

He did not know how to make it memorable.

He did not know how to make it right.

His body, his condition, felt like a liability, a shadow lingering over his courage. The ache was not in his legs. It was in his pride. In the quiet fear that once the moment came, he might fail her in ways he could never undo.

“Meadow,” he murmured, breathing in her rose-and-rain scent as his lips brushed her damp shoulder.

He paused.

The moment thickened with everything he could not quite say.

Doubt.

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Chapter 73

Desire.

Hope tangled tightly with fear.

i

She felt it.

She always did.

Her hands lifted slowly.

“Show me,” she signed softly.

The words were barely more than a whisper in motion.

He froze.

“What do you want me to show you?” he asked, searching her face.

“I want you… so show me how,” she signed again, her hands trembling, shy, nervous, but unflinchingly determined.

The honesty of it knocked the breath from his lungs.

There was no calculation in her request. No expectation shaped by experience. Only trust. Only longing. Only the brave vulnerability of someone offering herself without armour.

Surprised, Ethan chuckled gently.

Soft. Unsteady.

“What do you want me to show you?” he repeated, teasing now, hoping she would say the words aloud through her hands, hoping

she would be bold.

But her cheeks coloured deep pink, and he didn’t push.

Some moments were too fragile to force.

Left to instinct alone, he would have carried her straight to the bed from there, but he couldn’t.

So he restrained himself.

For now.

They finished in the shower and returned to the room wrapped in warmth and quiet tension.

The air between them felt charged, each breath heavy with anticipation that had not yet found its release. Ethan chose something casual to wear. He caught the flicker of disappointment in Meadow’s eyes, and smiled to himself.

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Chapter 73

If only you knew what I have planned.

She was certainly not patient when it came to what she wanted, and he found that utterly charming.

She reached for a dress, but he stopped her.

“Feed my eyes. We’ll be in the room throughout. You are my wife, Meadow, and I want you to feed my eyes,” he teased.

Even though she was still unhappy about his earlier restraint, she obeyed.

Inside the closet, she found it.

Black.

Delicate.

Daring.

The fabric whispered against her skin as she slipped into the sexy black lingerie, unsure of herself, breath catching, heart racing. It felt dangerous to wear something like this, dangerous to be seen in it. She covered it with a short black satin robe before stepping

back into the room.

Ethan looked at her, and slowly smiled.

A slow, appreciating smile that carried both heat and restraint.

“I guess I’ll have to earn the right to see it,” he teased.

Just then,

A knock sounded at the door.

“Enter,” Ethan called.

The door opened, and Meadow froze in astonishment.

Staff walked in carrying trays of breakfast, and behind them, vases upon vases of red roses.

Not one.

Not three.

But many.

They arranged them carefully.

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Everywhere.

On the bedside table.

Along the windows.

On the dresser.

By the door.

The scent filled the room.

Love.

Heat.

Promise.

It wrapped around Meadow like a warm tide. Something caught in her throat as the visual overwhelmed her senses.

She turned to Ethan, stunned.

He smiled at her quietly.

He had linked them at midnight.

Planned everything.

“It has to be special,” he said.

Her eyes flooded with joyful tears.

No one had ever treated her with such tenderness.

With such intention.

Not in gestures.

Not in words.

Not in pauses heavy with meaning.

In that moment, she felt something fragile and dangerous bloom fully in her chest.

She was falling

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“I do not want disturbance, Beatrix,” Ethan said gently as the head maid prepared to leave.

Beatrix nodded with a knowing smile, quietly happy that her Alpha was trying again.

“Let’s eat,” Ethan said.

Meadow was too giddy to suppress her joy.

She reached out and touched the roses.

Fresh.

Real.

Their fragrance wrapped the room in warmth.

They ate breakfast quietly.

Ethan couldn’t take his eyes off her.

And Meadow blushed the entire time.

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Underwater: The Silent Luna