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“And watch for infection,” she reminds me. I bite back my impatience. “Anything that looks off, report to the hospital immediately.” She moves, going somewhere quieter. “Is this for you, or for someone else?”

“Someone else.”

Collins sighs. “Briar, are you safe? Is she?” She adds, “If you need help, I can come⁠—”

“No,” I interrupt. “No, I’m fine, Colli-belle. I’ve got it handled.”

“Uh-huh. Does Maeve know?”

My silence is answer enough.

“Right,” she drawls. “Just be careful. Please?”

“Always.” Right.

Ending the call, I throw the phone aside. Soap and bandages, I can do.

Taking the knife from my pocket, I cut through her dress and let the rags fall to the side. After positioning her head on the pillow, I carefully maneuver her arm for better access. I run to the bathroom, filling a bowl with warm water and lathering soap into a cloth.

I’m halfway through cleaning her wound, fingers shaking as I focus on my task, when she jerks awake. Her breathing quickens, and she whimpers; the pain is excruciating. She tries to lift her head, but I grab the back of her neck, thumb rubbing soothing circles.

“It’s okay, Sunshine. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

She collapses at my voice, relief lighting her brow. “Briar?”

My heart fucking soars. She’s happy it’s me—she wants me.

“It’s me.”

Valentina tilts her head, gigantic eyes shadowed with tiredness. I swallow against the rage building in my chest. She never deserved this.

“You came,” she whispers.

“Of course I did.” I touch her wound, and she hisses out a heavy breath. My heart shatters like a dying star, blinking out of existence. “I’m sorry, but it has to be cleaned.”

“I can’t believe they did this.” Her voice shakes with unshed tears. “They made me their property.”

“No, Sunshine,” I deny. “The only person you belong to is me.”

A small tear falls from her eye, rolling over her nose. Leaning forward, I press my tongue to her skin, lapping up her pain as if I can steal it from her. If I could take it, harbor it so it never weighs on her, I would.

“How bad is it?”

I discard the cloth and take a dry one, patting the wound.

“Honestly? It’s not.” The skin’s broken and swollen, the edges burned and bruised. But she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

“Liar.” She half-heartedly signs it, and I smirk.

Shifting so she can see me, I slowly sign, “But you love me.”

I worked hard these last few days between hacking, sibling visits, and general bullshit on my signing. It kept me sane. If I could get it right during our time apart, then the separation would be all worth it.

I’ve practiced and recorded myself to analyze it. Shit, I almost hired a tutor—I still might. I’d do anything to make her feel seen and speak to her the way she wants. All this done because I wanted her to see with her own eyes that I loved her.

This isn’t perfect. But life rarely is.

Her watery smile lights up the room and, with it, my soul. “I shouldn’t love you,” she murmurs, eyes hard.