He shakes his head. “I’m not a fan of that unless it’s needed. She was a little distressed with us there, but she did let us check her vitals. It’s possible that with her stats so close to normal, shecouldexperience a heat spike. One of you should go in, but be careful. I’ll want to check her again in a few hours if Abrams doesn’t get here before that. If anything changes, press the button and we’ll come straight in. She needs to keep warm.”
Maybe this guy’s not so bad.“Thanks.”
He offers us a small, professional smile. “We’re all rooting for her.”
Good to know. I leave him with Jake and Max as I step up to the door and put the code in.
Red eyes with dark circles beneath greet me. Kenny looks tired, and I take a breath. “Hi.”
My chest tightens when she doesn’t move from the bed. Crossing the space, I kneel down beside her, pushing back her hair. Warm skin – too warm – meets my fingers. But she shivers. “You’re cold, baby.”
Sliding my arms underneath, I lift her easily, breathing her in. Cherries. Chocolate. Only a faint hint of that twisted, bitter scent that haunts me. She burrows her nose into my chest as I carry her across the room, making for the nest Max built for her. When I try to place her down, her grip on my shirt tightens.
Shifting her, I follow her down, stretching out until my head shares the same pillow, our noses brushing. “That better?”
She seems so familiar to me now. Almost Kenny, but… not.
As if this red-eyed, new mate is replacing the one I remember. My heart thumps inside my chest, so loudly that I wonder if she can hear it as I cup her cheek, curving my thumb around it and stroking her heated skin in soft circles.
Thinking, even as her eyes close, small huffs of breath deepening against my wrist.
The tension in my spine loosens. Softening, as I breathe in that scent. My eyes drift closed, snapping back open.
Having her close is the best sleeping aid, I realize. It feels as if I haven’t slept properly for three hundred days.
Maybe I could—
***
When I wake up, I can’t put the pieces together. I stare up at the light, blinking. And my arms tighten around the warm weight curled over my chest.
Kenny. She’s still sleeping, her lips parted and her hair a deep red curtain covering her shoulders and my arms, wrapped around her.
Lifting my hand, I brush it over her forehead. Checking.
Warmth, but no fever.
Letting my head fall back, I stroke idly through her hair as the thoughts pile back in.
Maybe the barrier… isKenny.
“It would have been nice. To be somebody’s everything.”
The remembered words threaten to shatter me all over again. My grip on her tightens, and a sleepy complaint slips out as Kenny’s eyes slide open.
Just for a moment, I think I see it. A flash of brown – maybe. But she blinks, and it’s gone.
I study her. “You wouldn’t be hiding from us in there, would you, Kenny Traylor?”
A small crease appears between her eyes. Smooths out.
Tilting my head, I run my eyes over her face again. “Maybe youarehiding. Maybe you’re scared, baby.”
My throat squeezes, phantom hands wrapping around it at the thought. “And I know why, Ken. I know why you’re frightened. But we can’t fix this – not properly – until you come out. And maybe she’s not holding you back anymore. Maybe you’re the one hangingon. Am I on to something?”
Two versions of Kenny, within one body.
One that took over, when she was broken and traumatised, andhurting. One full of fight and fury, to keep them both safe.
