The moment his eyes landed on her, his eyes softened.
Slowly his breathing eased just by looking at her, like Reiha was the only thing that grounded him to reality.
Then his gaze lowered to her wounded hand.
Before she could say anything, he stood up straight and grabbed Reiha’s hand and pulled her closer.
Reiha gasped as she stumbled against the side of the bed.
His hold against her wrist was painfully tight.
“Arthav, you’re hurting me,” she whispered.
But he looked completely unaware of it.
His eyes remained locked on the bandage wrapped around her hand.
A dark, dangerous look crossed his face.
“Who hurt you?” he asked quietly.
His voice sounded different from usual, rougher and quieter.
Like someone else was speaking beneath his skin.
“No one. I pricked my hand on the garden.” She looked at her hand, then back to him.
“Just an accident.”
Reiha narrowed her eyes.
“You don’t remember anything.”
Arthav brushed his thumb on her wound gently.
“You’re bleeding,” he murmured.
Reiha tried to pull back her hand from his grasp, but he gripped tighter instantly.
Reiha touched his face and lifted it up slowly.
“I am fine,” she said softly.
“It’s just a scratch. Don’t worry about it.”
His hand was still locked around her wrist.
“Please loose my hand, Arthav. You’re hurting me.”
His expression shifts the moment she says it.
The grip didn’t tighten this time.
It hesitated… then slowly loosened, like he was forcing his fingers to obey him rather than his instinct.
Reiha pulled her hand free, rubbing her wrist lightly as she stepped back.
“Aah—” Arthav suddenly flinched.
His hand shot to his forearm.
For a second he just stood there, unmoving, as if the pain had come from nowhere.
Veins were raised sharply beneath his skin.
It was alive, like something beneath his blood was trying to push its way out.
His jaw tightened.
He stared at it for a moment too long.
Then, he quickly pulled his shirt back.
A faint sound slipped into his ears after that.
Not loud.
Not clear.
Just a whisper-thin, distorted sound, like someone speaking from behind his thoughts.
Arthav didn’t respond.
He simply sat up from the bed.
Reiha watched him carefully, unsure if she should speak.
He moved toward the window instead, stopping right in front of it.
The glass reflected a faint version of him still and unreadable while the garden outside lay drowned in darkness.
His eyes stayed there for a long moment.
Then he finally spoke without turning back.
“It’s too late, Ma. You should go to bed.”
From behind, Kiara’s voice came immediately, low and uncertain.
“But Arth—”
“I am fine,” he cut in, quieter this time but firm.
“You just go back to your bed.”
Silence followed.
Kiara looked between him and Reiha and shot her with a blank stare.
Then she turned and left the room without another word.
The door closed softly.
The moment Kiara left, the air inside the room changed into heavier and quieter; suddenly the wind stopped moving inside that room.
Arthav turned away from the window and walked back to Reiha.
He stopped in front of her and gently took her hand again, but this time he held her carefully; he was afraid of his own strength.
“Forgive me,” he said, his voice low.
“I held your hand too tightly.”
Reiha didn’t pull away.
He released her hand and went straight into the bathroom.
A few minutes later, he returned with a first-aid box.
Reiha stayed still as he cleaned her wound.
His touch was controlled.
When he finished, he wrapped the bandage around her skin and secured it carefully.
“It won’t bleed now,” he said quietly.
Then, after a pause, almost like an afterthought, “You tied it too loose.”
Reiha looked at him for a moment.
A faint smile touched her lips.
“You must be tired,” he gulped and touched her cheek lightly.
“Did I scare you?”
“I thought you were dying. You were shivering and your hand—”
“You saw that?” he asked.
“Reiha nodded once.
“It won’t happen again.” He let out a deep breath.
“You should sleep too,” he said.
Then he closed the box and stood up.
Reiha reached out quickly and caught his hand before he could turn away.
“Your hand… is it okay?” she asked, her voice softer now, uncertain.
She stood as well, hesitating for a second before lightly touching his shirt near the forearm.
“Let me see your hand.”
The moment her fingers made contact, something in him snapped.
He pulled her hand away from his shirt.
“It’s fine,” he said sharply.
The words came out harder than intended.
His pupils twitched.
Just for a brief, unnatural second, his gaze shifted, and his pupils split in half, as if something else were looking through him from the same eyes.
Reiha froze.
She stepped back immediately.
Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and her eyes widened instinctively with fear, like her body reacted before her mind could understand what she had seen.
She took a shaky breath.
Her throat felt as if sand had crawled through it, scraping dry and raw.
She swallowed hard, but it didn’t ease the tightness.
Arthav walked outside from the room, and Reiha dared not to stop him again.