(Zorya)
Did he regret saving me and getting punished for it?
Was he going to hurt me?
But his grip was not bruising, unlike Beta Hadis, Jazian and that monster who molested me.
It was merely firm.
I sensed a tickle where our skins connected.
Panich choked the air in my throat.
“….ummm….I didn’t… mean to wake you,” I finally blurted out in a broken sentence.
Fear crawled over me like a centipede, wriggling its body.
“Did they hurt you?” He asked, in a voice rough around the edges and yet a hint of concern underlying it.
Even in this situation, even after everything he was through, he was concerned about me.
He didn’t even know me.
Stupidly, I blinked at him.
“No.”
His irises were not completely green, but there was an inner circle of blue before the black pupil started.
Three shaded eyes were rare, very rare.
He let go of my wrist and let his hand drop.
The veins in his muscular arm prominently protruded.
I drew myself away from his imposing figure and haunting eyes.
They remained focused on me, unblinking.
“How…are you feeling?” I stammered again, scampering out of my seat.
His gaze followed me, but he didn’t answer.
I checked his IV and vitals.
He appeared stable.
“Are you still in pain?” I asked, hoping he would answer.
I side-glanced him, and he gathered his hands to place them under his left cheek.
His thick, corded arms arched on both sides as he shook his head to answer my question.
“Ah!
The IV…” I pointed, but he didn’t seem to care that the cannula almost poked out of his hand.
“You are new.” It was a statement, showing he was observant and this wasn’t his first trip to the Clinic.
Sadly, I nodded.
A single crease appeared on his forehead.
His eyes roamed on my neck, and I was grateful to be wearing the lab coat.
At least he couldn’t see my wounded body.
I wasn’t sure how much we were allowed to converse.
I certainly didn’t want him to get into trouble because of me more than he already had.
But I had to thank him and apologise too.
I picked up the metal tray to change his dressing and apply ointment.
To my surprise, the shallow lacerations were already healing.
He had to be a shifter.
They had rapid healing compared to humans.
They still needed medical assistance in case of injuries, but they could heal at a faster pace.
Quietly, he observed me, not speaking.
His hands still rested under his cheek.
My hands began to sweat as agitation rose.
I cleared my throat and wiped his wounds with the saline gauze.
“I want to apologise for earlier…”
He cut me off with a single word.
“Why?”
“I got you in trouble with your Mistress.” Squeezing out the ointment, I began to spread it on his wounds,
“Trouble is my second name,” he nonchalantly added.
“I was already in trouble when I defied her order.” A hint of stubbornness, I deduced.
“Are you always like this?” I wanted to add “stubborn” to my question, but didn’t want to offend him.
I knew nothing about him, so I had to be cautious.
“If you mean reckless and stubborn, then yes.” He answered it for me.
But the authority and grace his voice possessed showed me he was no ordinary man.
Why and how was he here?
I stole a glance at him, and his twinkling eyes were still focused on me.
Quickly, I looked away, and the heat rose to my cheeks.
“Thank you for saving me.” My throat was clogged with emotions, making my nose burn.
I didn’t want to cry in front of him, to have him assume I was trying to gain sympathy.
“Stay away from trouble as much as you can,” he warned in a serious tone, pointing towards the collar around his neck.
My eyes found him, and his jaw had tightened like concrete.
I couldn’t even imagine the torture he had been subjected to.
He was referring to Canara.
What had she been doing to him?
I only had a glimpse, and the memory chilled me to the bones.
The nerves of steel and a heart of gold this man seemed to possess.
That woman was as terrifying as her brother.
I had so many questions to ask him, but there could be hidden cameras or devices.
They could be listening.
“And you saved my life.
We are even.
Not that I am keeping scores,” he elegantly answered.
Even with injury, he was calm like the surface of a lake on a sunny day.
Not once did I feel his steady body shudder or hear him hiss in pain throughout the process.
I took off my gloves and tossed them in the tray.
Using the hand sanitiser, I cleaned my hands.
“Do you need something to eat?” I asked, turning around to observe a round tray covered with a golden cloche.
This must be the food brought for him.
Approaching the table, I picked up the cloche.
There was a round charcuterie board underneath, filled with all kinds of delicacies—the ones I had only seen on TV, being consumed by the filthy rich.
Arranged in a single neat row instead of spread out were duck prosciutto, goat brie slices, fig jam-filled dates, creamy artichoke, tender asparagus and thinly sliced strawberries.
Did Canara send this food for him?
It screamed so.
I was still staring at the food, which appeared more like a masterpiece than a simple edible board.
“She thinks food will make up for it.” The raw pain his voice carried jerked my heart.
‘It.’ Meant abuse.
He seemed to have read my thoughts.
Was this care or an excuse to manipulate him?
This was poignant.
I carried the board to him along with the golden fork.
“You will have to feed me,” he stated, more like professed.
I nodded.
I started with prosciutto and slowly moved to veggies and brie.
He ate everything I offered.
His eyes never left mine; even when I focused on the board, I felt the heat of his gaze on me.
Both of us had burning questions, but we didn’t ask each other.
I didn’t want to overstep and make the situation difficult for him.
“You should eat too,” he calmly said, accepting a mouthful.
“I did earlier.” No way was I eating the food meant for him.
I didn’t even know when he had eaten last.
I continued to feed him.
After he had eaten, I used a wet wipe to clean his lips.
They were plump and shaped like a bow.
My finger accidentally touched his upper lip, and I felt the first shudder from him.
The skin was so soft as he parted them.
His eyes desperately watched me.
A tease, I felt in my heart.
I pulled my finger back.
My heart thumped loudly behind my ribcage.
“I apologise.” With that, I retreated, placing the board back on the table and keeping my back to him.