A deeper breath. Viktor’s position has changed. His hand tightens in the blanket. A muscle jumps in his jaw. Then his eyes open—not glassy with fever, but sharp. They cut through the haze of the drugs to find the only threat in the room. I forget how to breathe.
I flick a look at the door. Locked. Viktor coughs, the sound tearing out of him, rough and wet. I should go to him. I know I should. But fear, and something worse, pins me where I sit.
Then his gaze finds me. They aren't the eyes of a patient. They're the eyes of a predator. He’s assessing me, weighing my worth, and I’m frozen under the stare. “Where am I?”
Training kicks in before courage does. I’m moving before I think about it. “At home.”
His eyes sweep the room once, assessing. Then they return to me. “This is not home. Who are you?”
My pulse kicks. “I’m Jonah. I’m... your nurse. Do you need anything?”
Viktor’s eyes narrow. They’re green, edged with gold. The corner of his mouth tightens, like he can hear my heartbeat. Then his eyes slide shut again.
I don't realize I’ve stopped breathing until my chest burns. I sink back into the chair, then down to the floor, my pulse racing. My palms still feel warm.
This isn’t good. I scrub my face.
I just want to go home. Because sooner or later, Viktor will wake up. And he’ll realize we’re locked in together.
What do I do then? When he’s strong enough to stand? When he realizes I’m the only thing in this room he can break?
CHAPTER
FIVE
VIKTOR
The first thingI feel is pain. So fucking much of it. There’s a sharp strain under my ribs and a pressure in my chest that shouldn’t be there. My mouth parches. The ceiling swims for a moment before it locks into place. I try for a deeper breath and regret it. Something locks under the bandage, sharp enough to keep me still.
Turning my head, I see him by the wall.
He’s half out of the chair, caught mid-motion like a deer in the high beams. I recognize him from the shadows of my fever, the one who’s been hovering over me while the world was black.
He’s younger than I expected. Blond. His hair is longer than it should be for a nurse, messy strands that look soft even from across the room.
He looks out of place beside my bed, a bird trapped in a room with a bolted window. My gaze settles on the pulse jumping in his neck. It beats fast. He’s terrified, and the sound of his fear is the only thing grounding me to the room.
He locks up when he realizes I’m awake, crossing the room in two quick steps. “G—good morning, Viktor.” He swallows. “I’m Jonah. I’m your nurse. May I check on you?”
I take him in. His fingers fidget. His body leans back even as his feet stay planted, like he’s expecting impact. I don't have the strength to reach for him. Instead, I pin him with a look that says I don't need my hands to break him. I should be focused on the threat outside the door, but instead, I choose to watch the way his pulse jumps, deciding exactly how I’ll ruin him. “Carefully, Jonah. That’s not a request. If you hurt me, I’ll make sure you feel it twice as hard.”
“I’m going to touch you now?—”
I let my mouth curve. “Are you now?”
“Just to…” He clears his throat. “I need to check the dressing. Make sure it hasn’t bled through.” His hand hovers over my chest.
“Ne boy’ya,” I murmur. “I don’t bite. Not yet.”
Jonah blushes. “I’m not sure what that means, but… yeah, I’ll be done before you know.”
His touch is soft. My mind is still a fucking fog.
“I’m glad you’re awake,” Jonah breathes as he continues his work. The bandage is removed, then something wet slides over my flesh. I hiss at the sting, my stomach muscles jumping in an involuntary knot beneath his fingertips. “I’m sorry. Nearly done. The wound is healing slowly.”
Wound. I close my eyes and try to remember. Vesper’s. My birthday. Lev?—
“Lev.” My voice is a ghost of what it should be, but it stops him.
