Vaugh

sweeping the hushed room. "The wound is deep, and fever is a real risk. H

e heir to the Family, his demands had grown with his status. His dislike for certain scents, sounds, and e

maids ventured, her eyes wide and i

s unconsciousness, he looked distant, unreachable. I saw the faint worry line etched between his brows, the way his dark h

s, calloused from a life of hardship, clenched. It w

he thrashed against the silk sheets, his skin burning to the touch. I sat by his side, press

ding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I knew, deep down, that this was a mistake

filled with a desperate longin

er name again, a soft, possessive whisper that tor

ing my lungs, stealing my breath. I remembered his promises, whispered beneath a sky full of star

world had shifted, but mine had splintered into a milli

stion, but my mind refused to rest. The image of us, on the streets, fighting for every scrap, his h

oke. His breathing evened out, his skin cooled. He was safe. My body, denied sleep, finally gave in.

awake, his gaze fixed on my face, a strange mix of confusion and... som

e still hoarse, but clearer now

est. "You had a fever. Here," I said, my voice flat, holding

le cheeks. He looked at me, really looked at me, and a shadow of guilt c

Diana.

he continued, his voice softer now. "To make up

that used to be filled with stolen treats and his whispered p

voice colder than I inten

echoed from the hallway. "Mr. Bryce! Miss

ted with alarm. "What? Diana? Is she alright? What happened?" He tried to

e collapsed, sir! They say she was so worried about y

f bed, ignoring the fresh pain from his wound.

tinctive gesture to steady him.

xed on the door, on the thought of

ed at a passing capo. "Something to

. Not once. The door swung shut, a final, definitive click that echoed the sound