Because I feel it too.
We all do.
They help me lower Max back onto the pillows, supporting his head and shoulders, easing him down like he's made of glass. He curls onto his side immediately, pulls myblanket up around himself, and burrows into the pillow that smells like me. Still unconscious, still burning up, but his breathing is evening out just slightly. The rapid pants slowing to something closer to normal. The pills are helping. Or maybe it's being here, being in my bed, surrounded by my scent. The thought sends a jolt of possessive satisfaction through me.
I stand and motion for Zero and Bane to leave. They don't move immediately, both of them staring at Max, at the way he looks in my bed, small and vulnerable and utterly breakable.
"Go," I say, firmer this time.
"You sure?" Zero asks, his eyes flicking to mine, searching and looking for something I'm not ready to give him.
"I'm sure."
"What are you going to do?" Stay here. Watch him. Make sure he keeps breathing, make sure nothing happens to him, make sure he's safe.
"Make sure his fever breaks."
Zero studies me for a long moment. I can see him putting pieces together, connecting dots, reading between the lines. He's always been too observant for his own good. Finally, he nods. "Okay."
He turns to leave, stops at the door, and looks back. "Atlas?"
"Yeah?"
"Whatever this is—" He gestures vaguely at Max, at me, at the space between us. "Be careful."
Then he's gone, and Bane follows half a step behind, throwing one last worried look at Max before the door clicks shut.
I'm alone with him again. The silence settles, heavy and weighted.
I sink into the chair by my bed—the leather one I bought three years ago because I liked the way it looked, the one I usewhen I can't sleep, when the business keeps me up at night, when the weight of responsibility gets too heavy. I watch Max's chest rise and fall. His face is still too pale, still slick with sweat, but the lines of pain around his eyes have eased. His breathing is steadier. He's here. He's safe. In my bed. Where he belongs.
The thought should terrify me, should send alarm bells ringing, should make me call Dad and Margot and get Max out of here before I do something irreversible. It doesn't.
Instead, I lean back in the chair and let my head fall against the leather. I close my eyes. That scent fills my lungs with every breath—vanilla, honey, smoke, something darker underneath that I can't name.Mine. The word echoes through my mind, primal and possessive and undeniable.Mine.
I can’t bring myself to even think the word… what Iknowhe is. What he must have been hiding this entire time.
I think my brothers have figured it out too.
Never in my life did I think I would meet one, let alone have one living in my home.
Laying in my bed.
Tangled in my sheets…
I run my hands down my face, trying to shove away all the absolutely sinful and impure thoughts running through me, the biological impulses that are taking control of my body.
No. Right now, Max needs me calm.
He needs me clear-headed.
His scent wraps around me again and I shake my head.
Fuck. I don’t think I’ll ever feel clear-headed again after scenting him.
Chapter 14
Iwake up different.
