Carlos’s arms were too steady for a man who had just admitted I’d been gone a month. My body felt like it didn’t belong to me, weak and weightless, but the way he held me—like I was the only thing anchoring him—forced my heart to thud hard against my ribs.He set me back on the bed, careful, his fingers lingering against my skin as if letting go meant I would vanish. His eyes, dark and sharp, wouldn’t leave mine.“You were found by the creeks,” he said again, softer this time, like repeating it would make it real for both of us.The words twisted inside me. A month lost. A body dragged from the water. None of it felt possible. “I don’t remember,” I whispered. My throat tightened.“You’re alive. That’s what matters.” His jaw worked as if he wanted to say more, but the silence between us was thick enough to choke on.I shifted, trying to push myself upright, but my legs betrayed me. The moment I swayed, his hands caught me again, fingers gripping my waist. Too close. Too warm. The air t
The moment the door shut behind Carlos, Amelia’s legs nearly gave out. She gripped the bedpost until her knuckles hurt.He crossed the room in three strides, his hand closing gently around her wrist. “Sit,” he said.“I don’t need—”“You do.”There was no use fighting him. He was unmovable, like the storm outside — steady, relentless.She sank back onto the bed, breathing hard, every nerve still wired from the encounter outside.“Was it him?” she asked finally.“Yes.”Her stomach twisted. “And you just… let him go?”Carlos’s jaw worked. “I let him walk out of here alive. That’s all.”He was standing close again, too close. His shirt clung to him from the rain. Water still beaded at the edge of his hair, sliding down his throat.Amelia dragged her eyes away, heat creeping into her face.“You’re angry,” he observed.“You would rather I wasn’t?”His lips almost curved. “I’d rather you stayed alive.”Something in his voice made her chest ache.He turned then, running a hand through his wet
Carlos’s words were still in Amelia’s head when her knees gave out.“By the creeks,” he’d said, like it was just another fact, like it wasn’t a knife twisting into her chest.For a month.She’d been gone for a whole month.Her palms scraped the floor as she slid down the door, her breath coming fast, too fast.“Amelia—”His voice cut through the fog. Then his arms were around her, strong and solid, lifting her like she weighed nothing.“No—put me down—” she tried to push him away, but her body was weak, traitorously weak. Her hands barely made it past his chest before falling uselessly.Carlos said nothing. He simply carried her back to the bed, setting her down gently before crouching in front of her.“Breathe,” he ordered, his thumb brushing her cheekbone — not gently, not roughly either. Firm enough that she had no choice but to meet his gaze.“I can’t—”“Yes, you can.”Her lips trembled. “Why didn’t you just let me die there?”Something dark flashed in his eyes. He didn’t look awa
The hall outside Amelia’s room was a storm. Carlos’s boots hit the floor hard as he stepped out, the heavy thud of warriors’ feet surrounding him. The air reeked of blood, sweat, and aggression.Lars had arrived.The Shadow Alpha stood at the far end of the corridor, a dark, commanding figure surrounded by his men. He was taller than most, his broad shoulders wrapped in a leather coat slick with rain. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead, and his amber eyes burned like molten gold in the dim light.He didn’t look at Carlos at first. He was holding something.The bundle dripped steadily onto the floor.Carlos’s stomach turned to ice.“Tell me that is not what I think it is,” he growled, stalking forward.Lars’s gaze finally lifted, locking on him with an eerie calm. His mouth curled into something between a smile and a snarl.“I came to return what belongs to you,” Lars said, his voice low and carrying, the kind of voice that made the hair on the back of every warrior’s neck ris
The room was quiet except for the ragged sound of Amelia’s breathing. Her skin was clammy against his shirt where he held her, his fingers digging just a little too hard into her waist as if she might slip through his grasp if he let go. Her legs had given out completely when he’d told her the truth — that her body had been found by the creeks, that she’d been gone for a month.Carlos had seen warriors break under news less shocking than this, but there was something about the way Amelia’s eyes had gone glassy and unfocused that had nearly made him panic.“You’re fine,” he murmured, his voice low and coaxing, as if speaking to a skittish creature. He laid her carefully back on the bed, his palm cupping the side of her neck, thumb brushing over her pulse. “You’re safe here. No one can touch you.”But her trembling didn’t stop.Amelia swallowed hard, her throat dry as her eyes darted to his. “A month?” Her voice cracked.Carlos’s jaw flexed. “Sí, princesa. A month. But you’re here now.”
Amelia woke to low voices outside the door. Her body was stiff, every muscle aching from the tension she had carried all night.The conversation outside was too muffled to make out, but Carlos’s tone was unmistakable — clipped, controlled, irritated.She pushed herself up slowly. The memory of him sitting on the edge of her bed last night was still fresh, burned into her mind.He had stayed. Not for long, but long enough that she had fallen asleep knowing he was there.And now, she was torn between anger at his constant orders and the strange, reluctant safety she felt when he was near.The door opened, and Carlos stepped in.“You’re awake,” he said, as though it wasn’t obvious.“You’re loud,” she shot back.One brow arched. “You get bold when you’re rested.”She crossed her arms. “I get frustrated when I’m treated like a child.”He stepped further inside, shutting the door behind him. “You’re treated like someone who almost got herself killed.”“That wasn’t my fault.”“No,” he said.