Chapter Twenty-nine Kade
The door slams open. I don’t move. Can’t. Still inside her. Still connected. Still breathing hard. Footsteps. Sharp. Angry. I know who it is before I look.
Raven.
She stops. Takes in the scene. Us. Together. The blood on the sheets. My blood.
Her eyes narrow. Lock on me. Not Amethyst. Me.
“Get. The fuck. Back. In your room."
Her voice is ice. Sharp. Cutting.
“Now."
She points at the door. Doesn’t wait for a response.
“We need to make sure you didn’t just open the full fucking wound."
She’s furious. More than furious. I can see it in the set of her jaw. The tension in her shoulders. The way her hand is clenched at her side. She turns. Walks out. Slams the door behind her. The sound echoes. Silence.
I slowly pull back. The separation is immediate.
Violent.
Wrong.
Every instinct screams to pull her back against me. Keep her there.
Mine.
But the blood soaking through my bandages says otherwise.
I sit up. Careful. My chest screams. The wound pulls. Wet. Warm. Blood. Fresh.
I look down. The bandages are soaked through. Dark red. Spreading. Fuck. I opened it. Definitely opened it. I look at Amethyst. She’s watching me. Eyes clear. Present. Not judging. Just seeing. I smile. Small. Genuine.
“Sorry if I hurt you."
The words scrape out rough.
Broken. Honest.
“I needed you.”Not sex. Not comfort.
Her.
Just her.
She smiles back. Soft. Understanding.
“Don’t ever apologize for needing me."
Her voice is steady. Sure.
“There was no stopping that. It’s been too long. I understand." She shifts. Winces. The ribs.
“Also," she adds.
“It helped with the pain."
Something settles. Not the wound. Not the pain. The predator.
The part of me that has been clawing at the inside of my skin.
She understood.
Didn’t question it. Didn’t fear it. Just gave what I needed.
I stand. Slow. Careful.
The room tilts. Just slightly.
Blood loss.
I steady myself. Find my pants. Pull them on. One leg. Then the other.
The movement pulls at the wound. Fresh blood seeps. I don’t look. Don’t want to see how bad it is.
Amethyst is getting dressed too. Moving carefully.
Protecting the ribs. Her shirt goes on. Slow.
Deliberate. She doesn’t rush. Neither do I.
We dress in silence. No words needed. The connection is still there.
Invisible. Unbroken. I can feel it every times she looks at me.
Every time she breathes. Every second she’s within reach.
I walk to the door. Open it. Step into the hallway. The lights are too bright. Harsh. My chest throbs. Each step sends pain radiating through me.
I reach my room. The door is closed. I open it. The Raven is inside. Waiting. Arms crossed. Face set. Scowling. She looks at me. Takes in the blood-soaked bandages. The way I’m holding myself. Careful. Guarded. Her jaw tightens.
“Sit."
Not a request. A command. I sit on the edge of the bed. Slow. Controlled. She moves to me. Hooks me back up to monitors and starts unwrapping the bandages. Rough. Efficient. Not gentle.
“Do you have any idea—" She stops.
Breathes. Starts again.
“Do you have any fucking idea how close you came to dying?"
I don’t answer. She doesn’t expect me to.
“Two weeks ago you were bleeding out on a concrete floor."
The bandages come off. She tosses them aside. Looks at the wound. Her expression darkens.
“You tore three stitches." Her voice is flat. Cold.
“Three."
Two weeks ago Amethyst was chained in that facility.
Two weeks ago I almost lost her. I’d tear every stitch in my body before I’d let that happen again.
She stands. Walks to the door. Opens it. Leaves.
I sit there. Bleeding. Waiting. The monitors beep. Steady. Mocking.
Five minutes pass. Maybe ten. The door opens again. The Raven returns. Suture kit in hand. Small black case. She closes the door. Walks back to me. Sets the kit on the bed beside me. Opens it. Needle. Thread. Gauze. Antiseptic.
She sits on the edge of the bed. Close. Examines the wound. Her fingers probe. Gentle but firm. Assessing the damage.
“Still bleeding," she says. Not angry now. Just stating facts.
“Three stitches torn completely."
She reaches for the antiseptic. Soaks a gauze pad. I watch her.
“You know it helps with the pain, right?" The words come out quiet. Not defensive. Just honest.
She pauses. Looks at me. Really looks. Then nods. Slow. Understanding.
“Jake and I were in a similar situation when I had to save his ass."
Her voice is softer now. Almost gentle.
“The closeness we had when we are together nulls everything else."
She presses the antiseptic-soaked gauze to the wound. I don’t flinch.
“So yes," she continues. “I understand."
She pulls the gauze away. Reaches for the needle. The thread. Begins threading it. Steady hands. Practiced.
“I imagine this isn’t going to be a one-time thing."
She looks up at me. Meets my eyes.
“But you need to be fucking careful."
The needle is threaded. She positions it.
“No more ripping your stitches."
Her voice is firm. Clear.
“Find a different way so you’re not ripping your insides to pieces."
I nod.
“Understood."
She leans in. The needle touches skin. Pierces. Sharp. Clean. I feel it. The point breaking through. The thread following. Pulling. She works methodically.
First stitch. Pull tight. Tie off. Second stitch. The needle goes deeper this time. Through muscle. Through tissue. Pain radiates. Sharp. Immediate. I breathe through it.
Don’t move. Don’t speak.
Third stitch. She’s careful. Precise. Making sure it holds. Making sure it won’t tear again. The thread pulls. Tight. Secure. She ties it off. Cuts the excess. Sits back. Examines her work.
“That should hold."
She reaches for fresh gauze. Begins wrapping.
“If you tear these—"
She doesn’t finish. Doesn’t need to. I know the threat. Restraints. Lock down. No movement. No freedom.
“I’ll be careful,"
And I mean it. Not because I’m afraid of the pain. Not because I’m afraid of bleeding. But because every day I’m stuck in this bed, is another day I can’t protect her.
Raven finishes wrapping. Ties it off. Stands. Gathers the suture kit. Closes it.
“Get some rest."
She walks to the door. Pauses. Looks back.
“And Kade?"
I look at her.
“I do understand."
Something in her expression softens. Just slightly.
“But don’t make me regret not restraining you."
She leaves. Closes the door. Silence. I’m alone again. I lie back. Slow. Careful.
The fresh stitches pull. Tight. Secure. Different from before. The wound throbs. But it’s contained now. Controlled.
I stare at the ceiling. The monitors beep. Steady. Rhythmic. I think about her words. Find a different way.
I will.
Have to.
Because I can’t stop needing her. Can’t stop reaching for her. Can’t stop checking that she’s still there every time I open my eyes.
The predator is quiet. Satisfied for now.
Because she’s safe. Because she’s close.
Because she belongs to with me.
I close my eyes and breathe.
The pain is there.
Sharp. Constant. Real.
But Amethyst is here. One room away.
Safe. Breathing. Mine.And for tonight, that’s enough.