CHAPTER THREE

LYRA

The first thing I felt was cold.

It was not the sharp kind that made you shiver, but the dull kind that sank into your bones and stayed there. It was heavy and uncomfortable as it settled around my skin, like I’d been left out in the rain for too long.

Then came the sounds. The slow and steady beeping.

My eyelids felt heavy when I tried to open them. Like someone had pressed heavy weights against them. I blinked once, then twice, before the room came into focus in pieces. The walls were painted white with harsh lights, and the faint smell of antiseptic lingered In the air

It was a hospital.

The memory came rushing all at once.

I remembered fire, smoke, and screaming. And the intense heat that almost burned my lungs. Willow’s voice calling my name. The ceiling collapsed. A hand grabbing me-

“Willow.”

The word slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. My voice sounded weak and dry, like I hadn’t used it in days. I tried to move, panic flooding me when my body didn’t respond the way I expected it to. My fingers twitched, but my arms felt heavy.

“Willow,” I said again, louder this time. “Willow?”

“She’s alive.”

The voice came from beside the bed.

I sucked in a sharp breath before I turned my head. I felt pain while moving my neck, but I ignored it.

He was already there.

Sitting in the chair beside my bed like he belonged there. Like he hadn’t just appeared out of nowhere in my most vulnerable moment.

For a second, I couldn’t breathe. Then I recognized him instantly. It was him.

The man from the fire.

The one who caught me when I fell. The one whose touch had burned me from the inside out. The one whose face I’d barely registered before everything went black.

Up close, he looked carved rather than born.

His features were so sharp and perfect in a way that didn’t feel accidental. He had a strong jaw, with high cheekbones, a straight nose that looked like it had never known imperfection. His dark hair fell slightly into his eyes, it was messy in a way that only made him look more dangerous.

His body was also perfectly sculpted to suit his face. He had broad shoulders, solid chest, and his arms stretched the fabric of his clothes like they were holding back something powerful. He didn’t need to do too much. Strength sat on him naturally.

He looked like a man who had never been told no, and had never needed to ask twice.

I forgot where I was. And for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

“You’re awake,” he said calmly.

My heart started racing.

“Where’s Willow?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my effort to steady it. “Is she okay? Is she hurt?”

“She’s stable,” he replied. “She suffered injuries, but she’s being treated.”

“That’s not an answer,” I snapped weakly. “I need to see her.”

“You can’t,” he said. The word landed hard.

“Why?” My chest tightened. “Why can’t I see my sister?”

“Because you can barely sit up without your heart rate spiking,” he said, his tone even. “And because you’re still connected to three monitors.”

I followed his gaze and noticed the wires for the first time. The IV in my arm and the machines beside the bed.

I started to feel uneasy.

“What happened to me?” I asked.

“You inhaled a lot of smoke. You were crushed by falling debris. You went into cardiac arrest.”

Suddenly, everything blurred.

“Cardiac… arrest?” I whispered.

“Yes.”

My fingers curled into the sheets. I remembered the pain. The burning. The way my body had reacted to him. The way everything slipped away.

“You almost died,” he added.

I looked back at him sharply. “Almost?”

“You didn’t,” he said. “That’s what matters.”

Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist in dread.

“Why are you here?” I asked quietly.

His eyes didn’t leave my face. “Because you’re my responsibility now.”

That made no sense.

“I don’t even know you,” I said.

“No,” he agreed. “You don’t.”

“Then why are you in my hospital room telling me what I can and can’t do?”

“Because I saved your life,” he replied calmly.

“And because things changed the moment you touched me.”

My heart hammered loudly in my chest.

I swallowed. “What does that even mean?”

He leaned back slightly, studying me. Like he was deciding how much truth I could handle.

“You were exposed to something you don’t understand,” he said. “And now your body is reacting.”

“To you?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s insane.”

“Most truths are,” he said.

I stared at him, my heart pounding. “You’re not making any sense.”

He stood up slowly. The movement drew my attention whether I wanted it to or not. He stepped closer to the bed, stopping just short of touching me.

Up close, the air felt different. He smelled different too. Not like smoke or antiseptic. But something deeper and stronger than that. Like warmth and peace and something I couldn’t name.

My chest tightened again.

Tiny sparks danced under my skin, subtle but unmistakable. I hated that my body noticed him even before my mind caught up.

“What is your name?” I asked.

“Zeviar Knight.”

The name rang a bell.

My eyes widened. “The Zeviar Knight?”

He nodded once.

“The billionaire?” I whispered. “The philanthropist? The one whose face is on banners all over the city?”

“Yes.”

My head throbbed. “You’re telling me the man who organizes charity galas pulled me out of a fire and now thinks he owns me?”

“I didn’t say owns,” he replied.

“You said responsibility.”

“Same difference,” he said calmly.

Anger flared within me. “You don’t get to decide that.”

His gaze sharpened. “You don’t get to decide much right now.”

I felt small then. Truly small. Lying in a hospital bed, barely able to lift my arms, facing a man who looked like he could bend the world if he wanted to.

“You’re scared,” he said quietly.

“I should be,” I shot back.

“Yes,” he agreed. “You should.”

That didn’t help.

I took a slow breath. “At least explain please. I deserve that much.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“There is a world you don’t know exists,” he said finally. “And you stepped into it without realizing it.”

“That sounds like the start of a bad movie,” I muttered under my breath.

His mouth twitched slightly. “I’m not here to entertain you.”

“What are you here for then?”

His eyes darkened. “To make sure you survive what’s coming.”

A chill ran down my spine.

“What’s coming?” I asked.

He didn’t answer right away.

“Zeviar,” I pressed.

“You’re human,” he said instead.

“Yes,” I snapped. “I noticed.”

“And yet your body reacted to me like it shouldn’t have,” he continued. “That reaction nearly killed you.”

My breath hitched. “So touching you almost killed me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s very… comforting,” I said weakly.

“Lyra,” he said, saying my name for the first time. It shouldn’t have meant anything. It did. “From now on, you do not touch me without my permission.”

My stomach flipped.

“And you don’t leave this hospital without my say.”

“What?” I said sharply. “You can’t control me.”

His gaze held mine, like he wasn't ready to give in.

“I can,” he said. “And I will. Because until we understand what you are now, every wrong move puts your life at risk.”

“What am I?” My voice cracked. “I’m still me.”

“Yes,” he said softly. “And that’s the problem.”

Tears burned behind my eyes. Not because he was cruel. But because he wasn’t. He spoke like someone stating facts, not threats.

“I want Willow,” I whispered. “I want my sister.”

“You’ll see her,” he said. “When you’re stronger.”

I looked away, blinking hard. “I don’t like this.”

“I don’t need you to like it,” he replied. “I need you alive.”

Silence settled between us.

After a moment, he stepped back. “You should rest,” he said. “We’ll talk more later.”

“You’re just leaving?” I asked.

“For now.”

Before he reached the door, I spoke again. “Why does my body feel like this around you?”

He paused, and turned around to look at me.

“Because some bonds don’t ask for permission,” he said. Then he left.

The door closed softly behind him.

I lay there, my heart racing, my mind spinning.

I told myself it was probably the medication or the shock from the accident.

But when I turned my head toward the window, my breath caught. Gold eyes glowed in the darkness, watching me.

I blinked, and they vanished.

I laughed nervously. “Anesthesia,” I whispered. It has to be.

Because if it wasn’t…

I didn’t want to know what was really out there.