And I love her back. More than my empire, more than my own life, more than any rational person in my position should love anyone.
When I return to her room, she’s dozed off, her face peaceful despite the bandages and IV lines. I settle back into the chair beside her bed, finally understanding why my hands won’t stop shaking.
It’s not fear of what almost happened.
It’s the terror of what’s still coming.
Because loving someone in my world is the most dangerous thing you can do. It gives your enemies a target, a weakness they can exploit. It turns protection into an impossible equation where the stakes are always life and death.
But as I watch her sleep, I know I’m in too deep to turn back now.
She’s mine to protect. Mine to love. Mine to lose if I’m not careful enough, smart enough, ruthless enough to keep her safe in a world that destroys beautiful things.
The realization settles in my chest like a weight.
I’ve spent decades learning how to live without love. Now I have to learn how to live with it.
29
KASI
Day ten of house arrest,and I’m going insane.
The doctor said complete bed rest for a week, but lying in this room while Alaric hovers like I might shatter at any moment is driving me crazy. My shoulder aches, but it’s manageable. The real pain is watching him pace the floor every time I shift position.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” I tell him as he adjusts my pillows for the fifth time this morning. “I’m not going to spontaneously combust.”
“Dr. Patterson said?—”
“Dr. Patterson said rest, not solitary confinement.” I gesture toward the stack of business files on the desk. “You have work to do.”
“Work can wait.”
“Since when?”
He doesn’t answer, just pours fresh water into my glass and checks the bandage on my shoulder with gentle fingers. Thetouch sends warmth through me that has nothing to do with fever.
“Alaric, I’m fine. The wound is healing. I can move my arm without crying. You don’t need to guard me twenty-four hours a day.”
“Yes, I do.”
The simple certainty in his voice makes my chest tight. Ten days ago, he was the man who kept emotional distance even while claiming my body. Now he won’t leave my side long enough for a proper business meeting.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because every time I close my eyes, I see you bleeding in that restaurant. I wake up in a cold sweat thinking about what would have happened if that bullet had hit two inches to the right.”
I reach for his hand with my good arm, threading our fingers together. “But it didn’t. I’m here. I’m alive.”
“This time.”
“This time is what matters.”
He sits on the edge of the bed, careful not to jar my injured side. “I’ve never been afraid of losing someone before. Not like this. It’s…unsettling.”
“Welcome to caring about people.”
“I don’t like it.”
