Page 8 of Carver’s Crusade

“Of course you do. We’re very grateful,” Sade says.

“Shield is investigating the attack. They’re pulling camera footage, so hopefully they’ll identify your attacker and arrest him. In the meantime, Carver has offered to stay here and guard you,” Athena says, squeezing my hand.

I try to protest again. Insisting that I don’t need a guard, but my mother and father have a different take.

“That’s so kind of him,” my mother says.

“I had planned to stay myself, but I like the idea of someone younger and fitter protecting Raven,” my father says. “Is this him? He looks like he could fight off any attacker.”

I shift my eyes to the man he’s studying and gulp. The air shifts in the room, and suddenly it’s harder to breathe.

He’s tall. Really tall. At least six-two with broad shoulders stretching the seams of a plain black T-shirt. His kutte covers what is undoubtedly a chiseled chest. Everything about him is solid—muscle layered over muscle, the kind that says he uses it, not just builds it. His movements are controlled and deliberate. He’s dangerous.

My gaze drags upward, and that’s when it gets worse.

Short-cropped black hair. Sharp jaw. And eyes—green, bright and cutting, like they see too much. Like they could peel me apart without even trying.

Yummy.

The word slips into my head before I can stop it, and I almost laugh—because wow, my instincts are clearly broken.

He has those eyes trained on me. Warmth flows through me, followed closely by an itch. Maybe it’s a tingle. Is it lust? Or fear? My pulse kicks harder, betraying me, even as every survival instinct I have starts screaming. He may be here to guard me, but who’s going to guard me from him? I close my eyes to block everyone out. I need a minute to regroup.

“The pain medicine is making her sleepy,” Tally says. “It’s best if everyone leaves her so she can get some sleep. That will help her body heal faster.”

My mother and father take turns kissing my forehead before they follow Athena out of the room. I’m hoping they take Carver with them. He crosses toward the door, but instead of leaving, he simply pulls a chair over so he can sit facing me with his back to the door. We’re alone, except for Tally.

“You don’t have to stay,” I tell Carver. “I’m sure I’ll be safe in the hospital.”

He grunts but doesn’t respond.

“Don’t waste your breath arguing with him,” Tally chides me. “You need to rest your throat, and he won’t listen. Believe me, I have one just like him at home, and he never does what I want. I think the helmets they wear make them hard-headed.”

Carver rolls his eyes at Tally’s remark. Tally just grins at him.

“Don’t worry about him; he’ll be quiet. You need to rest. With Carver here to guard you, you can do so knowing no one will bother you,” Tally assures me.

I close my eyes and try to ignore the sound of his breathing. Instead of keeping me awake, his presence makes me feel safe enough to drop off.

Tight hands on my throat. They’re crushing. I can’t breathe.

Tony’s face is twisted above me, his eyes wild, spit flying as he shouts something I can’t hear over the roaring in my ears. My fingers claw at his wrist, nails digging in, but he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t feel anything.

My lungs burn. My vision tunnels. This is it. I’m going to die.

Darkness creeps in from the edges, swallowing everything, and just before it takes me, his grip tightens—

I jerk awake with a strangled gasp.

Air rushes into my lungs like fire, sharp and painful. My hands fly to my throat, pressing, checking, making sure.

“I can’t—” My voice breaks. “I can’t—”

“Raven.”

A deep, steady voice breaks through my panic.

I suck in another breath, my gaze snapping toward the sound. Carver is there, sitting beside my bed, leaning forward, his forearms braced on his thighs. His green eyes lock on me, sharp but not hard.