Wraith held his hands up. “Fine. I’ll go somewhere else and pretend you’re not hovering.”
He disappeared down the hall.
Lock stayed where he was for a second longer before stepping into the room. Not close, but close enough that his scent hit me again, warm and sharp and steady.
My pulse jumped.
He noticed. His eyes flicked to my neck, before he dragged them back to my face.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he said. His voice was calm but the look in his eyes stole my breath.
My cheeks warmed. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“I know.” His jaw flexed. “Still didn’t like it.”
I swallowed. My body felt too warm again, but not dizzy this time. Just… aware. Of him. Of how big he looked in the doorway. How the light caught the pale blue of his eyes.
I pushed the blanket off and tried to sit up fully. My balance tipped for a second.
Lock moved instantly.
His hand was at my arm before I even realized I was swaying, steadying me with a touch that was firm and careful at the same time.
My breath hitched.
“Easy,” he murmured.
I nodded, even though I felt like I was spinning in a thousand directions.
The room was too quiet. Too warm. Too much him.
It hit me then… all at once.
The scent. The jacket. The cut on the wall.
The faint rumble of bikes outside.
“Oh,” I whispered, chest tightening. “I’m really here.”
Lock’s brows pulled together. “Kellan?—”
“In Crimson Havoc territory,” I said, voice small and thin. “In your room. In your bed.”
His throat worked once, like he was trying to find the right reaction. He didn’t.
He just said, low and steady, “You’re safe.”
But safe wasn’t the problem.
The problem was how my body reacted to his voice.
How my chest pulled tight.
How the warmth in my stomach wouldn’t go away.
I should’ve been terrified.
Instead, I was something else entirely.
