“Go tell him she’s okay. Tell him I need him.”
He leaves and Zahkar appears in the doorway thirty seconds later. His eyes fall on Alyona, who is limp and pale in my arms.
“She just has a fever, Z. I need you to help me get her clothes off,” I explain, urgency creeping into my voice.
Without a word, Z nods. He approaches and begins to strip away her clothes carefully, placing each piece in a pile by the sink. Blue and black bruises spread across her fair skin like grim artwork. The cut on her stomach is raised, inflamed and swollen, with red, patchy skin encircling it.
“Shit, that looks infected,” I murmur.
Without hesitation, Zahkar removes his own clothes and doesn’t even wince when he steps into the cold water and sits down. He holds his arms out for me to transfer Alyona to him.
“No,” she cries out, gasping when her bare skin hits the cold water.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Z finally speaks, his voice a soothing whisper as he gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She burrows into his chest with a quiet sigh, seeking comfort in his warmth. She curls around him, drawing close like a flower leaning toward the sun, desperate for his light to mend her.
My eyes trace down their entwined form and my lungs constrict at the beauty of them together. We missed her so damn fucking much it’s painful. Despite myself, my dick thickens at the sight of their naked bodies. Flesh to flesh. Home in each other’s arms.
Leaning over the edge of the tub, I grasp a bright yellow sponge shaped like a duck and gently squeeze it, sending cool water cascading over Alyona’s shoulders and down her chest. The liquid glistens against her skin as I carefully pour it over her forehead and run it through her long strands of hair, creating a small waterfall of droplets that trickle onto Zahkar’s chest. We stay in this moment, our breaths mingling and filling the air witha soft rhythm, until we’re interrupted by Viktor knocking softly on the door.
“Doc is here,” he states without stepping inside.
Alyona manages to stand on her own while I dry her off, the cold bath having cooled her fever. She’s more beautiful now than she’s ever been. Her round, full tits with peaking rose nipples brush against my arm as I bend to soak up the drips running down her stomach. Her breath catches at the contact. Her pussy is glistening from the bath water, and it makes my mouth flood with saliva.
She is trying to kill me.
I reach the thin silver scar above her mound and still my hand. I sense Zahkar behind me, watching us.
“It’s my favorite part of my body,” she murmurs softly, her fingertip gliding over the scar as if recalling the memory of how she got it. “When they cut me open to bring her into the world and placed her on my chest, I knew she was my reward, my salvation. I had been teetering on the edge of life and death, and the moment I held her, she breathed new life into me. She was us three. Our love made into a tiny person." She sniffles and chokes out, “Please don’t hate her for what I did. I can’t bear it.” Her eyes pour with grief and desperate tears.
I suck in a gulp of air. “We never could,” I confess, my heart stampeding. “We never could.” I repeat for myself more than her.
Z swipes her tears away and carefully slips his shirt over her shoulders, buttoning the first few buttons to cover her enough so she can move to her bed without flashing Viktor.
“Thank you,” she breathes, brushing her hair from her face. “I feel a bit better, less dizzy.”
“Come on,” I tell her, guiding her to the bedroom. “Let’s have the doctor check you over.”
The doctor is a middle-aged woman with sharp, pinched features and a slim, almost frail build. She’s dressed in a drab brown dress that would make Alyona cringe if she weren’t unwell. Despite her poor fashion sense, she brings a considerable amount of medical equipment and immediately gets to work, focused on examining Alyona.
“What are you doing now?” Z demands, his voice piercing through the quiet tension in the room and undoubtedly getting on the doctor’s nerves.
“I’m taking her blood pressure,” she replies, managing a tight smile that barely conceals her irritation. “Where did you say she received her injuries?” She directs her gaze at Zahkar as if he were scum scooped from a drain. He’s standing, only wearing his underwear. He looks a little crazed, hovering by the bed side.
“We didn’t specify,” Viktor interjects, clicking his tongue in irritation. He watches the doctor with impatience from the bedroom doorway. “And you’re getting paid not to ask. Just do your fucking job.” His tone is firm, conveying a warning to remain focused on Alyona’s care rather than on irrelevant questions.
“Her blood pressure is elevated, and these wounds need attention and re-dressing. One has glitter in it.” She presses her lips into a thin line. “Usually, infections don’t come on this quick, but due to the glue being used, I’m going to administer antibiotics and fluids via a PICC line to combat any infection before it can worsen. Is it okay to set up an IV here in the bedroom?”
“Yes,” Alyona answers on her own behalf. “Roza?” She cuts her eyes over to Viktor who nods his head.
“She’s fine,” he assures her. “Sleeping.”
“Is she going to be, okay?” Z asks the doctor, gesturing to Alyona, and shifting from foot to foot.
“Yes, as soon as we get any infection under control. She needs to hydrate and rest, but she should be fine.”
Z pats the doctor on the back, almost causing her to topple onto Alyona. I bite back a grin and glance over to Viktor, whose focus is fixed on something down the hallway, his brow furrowed.
“Shit,” he growls, his voice low. “Someone is at the front door.”
