Chapter 229
KATYA POV
The first thing I noticed was the cold. Not the room...... It crept up my spine and settled in my bones, like my body had forgotten how to stay warm on its own.
The second thing was the pain. It pulsed behind my eyes and back, deep and heavy, every beat slow and unforgiving.
I lifted my hand without thinking and imdiately hissed. Wet. Sticky. My fingers ca away red.
Blood.
That explained the dizziness. The way the room tilted slightly, like it couldn’t decide where it wanted to stay.
I swallowed and tried to breathe normally. In through my nose. Out through my mouth. It didn’t quite work.
My chest still stuttered, breaths catching halfway like my lungs hadn’t gotten the ssage that it was over.
It’s over, I told myself. I wasn’t sure what it was. Just that the feeling lingered, thick and suffocating, like smoke after a fire.
I realized then that I wasn’t alone. He was still there Too close.
Not touching —not really—but close enough that I could feel the heat of him, steady and solid.
Close enough that his presence pressed in on my senses, leaving no room to look anywhere else but him.
I froze. My body locked up before my brain could catch up, every muscle bracing, waiting for the next thing.
The hit. The shout. The punishnt. Nothing ca. Seconds passed. Maybe longer. Ti felt strange, stretched thin and uneven.
I forced myself to look up. The mask was the first thing I saw.
Black. Smooth. Expressionless. Roo.
My throat closed. I rembered flashes then. Not in order. Never in order.
The lights going out. The floor rushing up too fast. The sound of my own breathing turning wild and wrong.
My mouth moving without permission, words spilling out that didn’t belong to the present. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.
Heat crawled up my neck, sharp and humiliating. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, as if that could erase it. When I opened them again, he was still there. Still watching. Still silent.
I waited for anger. For disgust. For him to pull away like I’d embarrassed myself beyond fixing.
Instead, he didn’t move at all. That was worse. My hands trembled in my lap. I tried to curl my fingers into fists, to make them stop, but the shaking slipped through anyway, stubborn and uncontrollable.
"I—" My voice cracked on the first sound. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I’m fine." It was a lie. We both knew it.
His gaze flicked briefly to my temple. To the blood. His jaw tightened—not dramatically, not openly—but enough that I noticed.
Sit still," he said, not gentle, but not cruel either, just firm. Like an order he expected to be obeyed
My body reacted before my pride could argue. I stayed here I was, back against the bed, legs folded awkwardly beneath . The marble floor leached more cold into my skin.
I beca suddenly aware of how small I felt down here. How exposed.
Roo stood up from his kneeling place. The movent was sudden enough that my shoulders tensed on instinct, my spine screaming in protest as I shifted slightly against the bed.
Pain flared down my back, making bite down hard on my lip to keep the sound in. I didn’t follow him with my eyes at first. I listened instead.
His footsteps moved away from and I finally looked up in ti to see him disappear into the bathroom.
The door closed. My chest tightened. Why is he going in there? My mind spiraled imdiately, filling the silence with too many possibilities.
Was he calling soone? Security? A doctor? Soone worse? I stayed exactly where he’d told to stay, even though the floor was freezing and my back felt wrong, too sore, like sothing had shifted that shouldn’t have.
A voice rose on the other side of the door. Not his usual low control. Sharper. Quieter, but edged with irritation.
I flinched. There was soone else in there with him?
Or no. A phone. I strained to hear, but the words blurred together, muffled by the thick walls.
All I caught were fragnts. A clipped tone. A command. My na, once. I swallowed hard.
My back throbbed again, deeper this ti, like a bruise being pressed from the inside. I knew that pain.
Knew what it ant. I’d fallen hard. Too hard. Great. God really doesn’t want anything on to heal, does He? I thought weakly
My head and back bandages ruined. Again. I pressed my palm lightly against my side, careful not to shift too much.
My fingers ca away damp. I forced myself to stay still. Because he’d told to. The bathroom door opened. I jumped despite myself.
Roo stepped back into the room carrying a small black dical box in one hand. In the other was his phone, screen dark now, shoved away like he was done with it.
So the voices hadn’t been my imagination. My stomach knotted as he crossed the room toward .
Every step closed the distance too fast, my pulse picking up even though I told myself he wasn’t angry.
He stopped in front of and lowered himself again, kneeling so we were almost eye level.
Too close. My eyes widened before I could stop them. "What—" I started, then stopped because I didn’t actually know what I was asking.
He seed... uncomfortable and stiff in a way that didn’t match the rest of him, like he was forcing himself through sothing he didn’t like.
He set the box down carefully beside and opened it. The clean snap of the latches sounded too loud in the quiet room.
"Your head is bleeding," he said, eyes fixed anywhere but my face. "It needs to be cleaned and rebandaged."
His voice was clipped, like if he said it fast enough, it wouldn’t feel strange. I nodded automatically.
Then realized what he’d actually said.
"You?" The word slipped out before I could stop it. His jaw tightened again. "There’s no one else here," he replied. "And I’m not waiting for you to faint."
Sothing about that shut up.
He reached into the box, pulling out the items and a fresh bandage. His movents were efficient, practiced—but his shoulders stayed tense, like he was bracing himself.
"I’m not going to hurt you," he added, after a beat. Not looking at . "But I need you to stay still."
My throat went dry. "I can do it myself," I offered weakly, already knowing it was pointless.
He finally looked at then. One sharp glance. One raised brow. "No," he said flatly. I swallowed and nodded again.
He hesitated before touching . Just a second. Long enough that I noticed. Long enough that it mattered.
Then his fingers brushed my hair aside, careful but firm, exposing the bandage that had already darkened and loosened.
I sucked in a breath. "Tell if it hurts," he said. It already did. But I stayed silent anyway.
††
Ahhhhh.
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