The moment we reach the tunnel, he stops abruptly and I bump into his chest.
“You came fast,” he says, voice low and rough.
“You were hurt,” I answer, heart pounding.
His eyes darken.“You always gonna run like that?”
“I—”
God, I don’t know.
He gives me one long look that sends heat down my spine.Then Kael guides him toward the training room, Finn hovering close like a shadow.
I follow.
And I can already feel the pressure building behind my ribs.
Because all three of them are about to be in a small room with me.
Worried.
Watching.
Crowding.
Trying to help.
And none of them realizing they’re making everything so much worse.
***
The second we stepinto the training room, everything tightens around me.
The walls feel smaller.
The air feels heavier.
And the three of them—Kael, Finn, Atlas—move with this suffocating, overwhelming intensity that wraps around my ribs like a fist.
Atlas lowers himself onto the medical table with a hiss, jaw clenched.Kael stands to his left, arms crossed, eyes burning holes in the floor.Finn is on the right, pacing, hands dragging through his hair.
All three of them tense.
All three of them watching me.
All three of them too close.
I can’t breathe.
“Okay,” I say, forcing my voice steady as I set out supplies.“Let me check your shoulder.”
Atlas glares at the mention of pain but doesn’t argue when I step in front of him.I place my hands on his upper arm, feeling for swelling, muscle tension, any dislocation.
He inhales sharply.
“Hurts?”I ask.
“No,” he lies.
