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For a moment, she looked as if she’d stab me with a scalpel, but slowly, the rage in her pretty older face turned into weary hate. “I’m sorry, Master H. Forgive me.”
“Focus on Peter.” Clicking my fingers and striding to the door, I ordered, “Ilyana, come. I’ve had enough of this place.”
I had to leave.
Before I lost it.
Ily’s gorgeous golden eyes met mine just as Peter woke up again, mumbling with hallucinations and knocking over the bowl of disinfectant.
He screamed in pain.
Ily shifted toward him.
And something terrible happened.
A soft cry on her lips.
A weak press of her hand to her head.
Then she staggered.
And fell.
Crumpling, tumbling—
Tossing the metal bowl away, I hurled myself forward and caught her just before she cracked her skull on the flagstone pavers of the doctor’s lounge.
No one said a word as I gathered Ily into my arms and somehow found the strength to lurch to my feet.
My back protested.
My arms had no strength.
But having her close, feeling her fading heat soaking into me—the rightness of her after the wrongness of Peter—fuck, I needed that.
I hadn’t been aware how much I needed that.
How desperate I was to stay human when all I could see and hear and taste was death.
My eyes met the doctor’s. “If you try to stop me from taking her, I will hurt you.”
“Just like you hurt her?”
I glanced down at Ily’s slack face and closed eyes. I held her life in my hands, and instead of her fiery temper colliding with mine, her silent submission undid me.
“Pick up the supplies and give them to me.”
Melanie crossed her arms. “You can’t take her. I won’t let you. She could die if she doesn’t receive proper care. Especially if there’s internal bleeding.”
“I’ll bring her back later.”
“Are you a doctor, or are you just stupid? She’s my patient. Because of you, we’ve spent the entire day doing our best to repair what you and your fucking friends broke. I thought it was over. I hoped I wouldn’t have to see another brutalised person tonight. But no! I now have two unconscious patients to add to my overflowing surgery, and I’m telling you, Master or no Master, she belongs to the owner of this castle, and it’s up to me to fix her!”
“Wrong.” I stalked into her. “She’s mine, and I’ll take care of her.”
Her eyes flickered to my cut arm. Her expression said she didn’t give a rat’s ass about sewing me up anymore, but she would fight me on behalf of the jewels in her care. Her backbone grew stupidly brave as she shook her head. “If you think you can have more of your twisted fun tonight with a passed-out, bruise-riddled jewel, you deserve to die from that knife wound.”
I reeled backward. “Do I look like the type of man who would fuck her in this condition?”
