“You should rest,” he said, starting to pull away.
I gripped his hand tighter, not wanting him to go. “Reaper.”
The sound of his name stopped him. He remained perched on the edge of the bed, tension radiating from him. His gaze narrowed as he stared at me. And though he felt more like…him,something was brewing right below the surface. I could see that much.
He wasmad.
Had the roles been reversed, I would’ve been angry, too. But what other choice did I have? I couldn’t leave my brother behind, and I definitely couldn’t have handed him over to Brock. God knew what he would have done to Reaper. Justlike Xavier had taught me, I had calculated the risks, and I made the decision that made the most sense. As simple as that.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I had to...”
“Had to what?” The words exploded from him, sharp and jagged. “Walk straight into his hands?” He stood abruptly, pacing like a caged animal. “Do you have any idea what I saw when I found you?”
I’d never heard him like this—raw emotion breaking through his careful restraints. It was like seeing a new man entirely.
“They were breaking you apart,” he continued, shaking his head, as if he was trying to chase away the image of me from his mind. “Taking you away piece by piece. They had tubes in your arms, pumping that blue poison into you while Brock stood there taking notes like some fucking scientist with a lab rat.”
His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, and his knuckles were white and straining.
“Your body kept fighting the restraints. Your skin was turning that sick blue color. And your eyes...” His voice caught. “Your eyes looked right through me, not seeing anything.” He turned away, shoulders rigid. A moment of silence followed as he inhaled deeply. “If I’d been ten minutes late…”
More silence. I wanted to reach over to him, to comfort him, but I was still far too weak to move. Besides, I didn’t want to push any boundaries right now. I stared at him, and the silence between us seemed to stretch into an eternity before I finally spoke again.
“If our positions were reversed,” I said quietly, “would you have done anything different?” He didn’t answer, but his shoulders dropped slightly. “Xavier is the only family I have left.” My throat tightened around the words. “And you…” I struggled to continue. “I couldn’t lose you both.” He turned back, his face a battlefield of anger and something deeper, more vulnerable. “I made the only choice I could live with,” I finished. “I had to help my brother…and they had taken so much from you already. I couldn’t let them take the last remains of your humanity, too. Not when you’d come so far.” The anger drained from his posture. His eyes, still haunted, searched mine. “A week ago, you were hunting me,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “And now…”
“Now?” he prompted when I trailed off.
“Now I can’t imagine...” I stopped, surprised by the intensity of what I’d been about to say.
He moved back to the bed, sitting closer this time. “I know,” he said. “It shouldn’t be possible.”
His thumb traced small circles against my palm.
“I’ve never had this before,” he admitted. “Whatever this is. I didn’t even know it was possible.”
“Neither have I. Not like this.” I met his eyes. “Is it real? Or just the trauma talking?”
“Does it matter?” he asked, genuinely wanting an answer.
I thought about it, about the way my heart raced when he touched me—not from fear anymore, but something entirely different. Perhaps we met each other in the most unusual circumstances, but it felt like a less important detail right now. All that mattered was that he was here, right by my side.
“No,” I said finally. “I don’t think it does.”
Another violent tremor shook through me, and this time it wasn’t just my hands. My entire body seemed to vibrate with the aftereffects of Brock’s compound.
Without hesitation, Reaper moved fully onto the bed beside me. His arms encircled me, careful of the IV line, pulling me against his chest.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured against my hair.
I should have felt trapped. Instead, I melted into him, fingers clutching at his shirt. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my ear anchored me.
“I can still feel it,” I whispered. “The blue compound… breaking me apart.”
His arms tightened around me. “I know,” he said, and of course he did. He knew exactly what I was experiencing. “Focus on my voice. My touch. It helps push back the chemical echoes.”
I nodded, pressing closer. The solid warmth of his body against mine created a barrier between me and the poison still lingering in my system. His scent—gunpowder, soap, and something uniquely him—filled my senses, overriding the phantom smell of antiseptic that had haunted me since waking. I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the sensation of him next to me rather than the chaos inside me.
At that moment, I understood that something fundamental had shifted between us. Beyond attraction. Beyond shared danger.
