Sutured

The emergency lights kicked on, bathing the room in a dim, red glow.

Kaelen limped toward her. He didn't look at his own wounds. He crowded her against the counter, his hands—slick with the blood of his enemies—running over her arms, her shoulders, her face.

"Did they touch you?" he demanded. His voice was frantic. "Elena, look at me. Are you hurt?"

Elena dropped the syringe. It clattered on the floor.

She looked at him. The logic was gone. The science was gone. There was only the heat of his body and the terrifying reality that she had just killed to save him.

"I'm fine," she whispered.

"You fought," Kaelen breathed, his thumb tracing her lower lip. "You didn't run. You fought for me."

"I fought for my patient," Elena tried to say, but the lie tasted like ash.

"You fought for your Mate," Kaelen corrected.

He leaned down. This time, Elena didn't pull away. She didn't hold up a scalpel.

She grabbed his face, her fingers digging into his jaw, and pulled him down.

The kiss was desperate. It tasted of copper and adrenaline. It wasn't gentle; it was a collision. Kaelen groaned, lifting her onto the counter, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Mine," he growled against her lips. "You can argue with me tomorrow. You can throw your textbooks at me. But tonight, you are mine."

"Shut up," Elena whispered, kissing him again. "You ripped your stitches."

"Fix me," Kaelen said. "Do whatever you want to me. Just don't leave."

Elena pulled back. She looked at the blood on his chest, then at the gold in his eyes. She realized that her father’s chaos had destroyed her family because there was no anchor. No logic to hold the beast.

But Kaelen... Kaelen had let her stitch him. He had let her lead.

"Get on the floor," Elena ordered softly. "The table is broken."

Kaelen obeyed instantly. He sat on the bloodstained tiles, leaning his back against the cabinets. He watched her with unwavering devotion as she gathered a fresh suture kit.

Elena sat between his legs. The blizzard still raged outside, burying the world in white. But inside, in the red glow of the emergency lights, it was warm.

She threaded the needle. She placed her hand on his chest, right over his heart. It beat in a steady, powerful rhythm that matched her own.

"This is going to hurt," she said.

Kaelen smiled, resting his hand over hers. "I know. I'm not going anywhere."

Elena began to stitch. She closed the wound, sealing the bond, accepting that some things in this world couldn't be explained by science—they could only be survived, together.