I Belong To Him

CHAPTER 3

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Larkan stirred beneath the crisp white sheets, his eyes slowly fluttering open. The smell of antiseptic lingered in the air, mingling with a faint trace of lavender. The pain in his chest was a heavy anchor pulling him back from the edge of sleep. His body protested as he moved, muscles aching, every breath a reminder of how close he had come to death.

It took him a moment to recognize his surroundings. The room was unfamiliar but luxurious—rose-gold fixtures, soft white drapes that danced with the wind, and a dainty chandelier above that glinted like a star. He was still in Rose’s mansion.

Larkan exhaled slowly. His instincts told him he shouldn’t have stayed here. But his body had given him no choice. And besides, hospitals weren’t an option, not for someone with enemies like his.

The door creaked open, and Rose entered with a tray. Her long hair was tied in a loose braid, and she wore a simple blouse and jeans, looking far removed from the girl who had faced a shootout just the day before. She stopped short when she saw him awake.

“You’re awake,” she said, setting the tray down carefully. “You should eat something.”

Larkan didn’t respond right away. He watched her, analyzing her movements—graceful but hesitant. Her eyes were wary, but kind.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he said gruffly.

“I know.” She sat in the chair beside him. “But I couldn’t let you die.”

He looked away, silent. That fact alone had unsettled him more than he expected. He wasn’t used to people risking themselves for him. He wasn’t used to being saved.

Rose shifted in her seat, suddenly nervous. “I thought you might be… the boy.”

“What boy?” Larkan asked, narrowing his eyes.

Rose pulled something from her pocket. It was the bracelet, weathered and faded, but still recognizable. “This bracelet belonged to the boy who saved me when I was little. My parents always said he was the reason I lived. They died that day, but he… he saved me.”

She clutched the bracelet tightly. “They told me he vanished. But I thought maybe, just maybe, you were him.”

Larkan’s expression softened, but only slightly. He looked at the bracelet, then at Rose.

“I’m not him,” he said quietly. “That bracelet was given to me by someone who saved me. A long time ago. He died… protecting someone.”

Rose’s eyes dimmed. She bit her lip and looked down. The disappointment was evident, but she didn’t cry. She just nodded, as if accepting something she had long feared to be true.

“He must have been very brave,” she whispered.

“He was,” Larkan said. “But he was also foolish. Thought the world would change if he just believed in it enough.”

Rose managed a small smile. “That sounds like someone I would’ve liked to meet.”

For a moment, silence filled the room, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a mutual understanding, a bridge between pain and memory.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a pause. “I guess I just… needed him to be alive. My parents always talked about him as if he were a hero. I thought if I could find him again, maybe I could… understand why I survived when they didn’t.”

Larkan looked at her, something in his chest tightening. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation for surviving.”

“But I do,” Rose replied firmly. “And I think I’ve found it now.”

“What do you mean?”

She stood and walked toward the window, her back to him. “You’re the reason I’m still here, Larkan. I saved you, yes, but it doesn’t feel like enough. I think… I think I want to be with you.”

Larkan’s eyes widened slightly. “What?”

“I owe you my life now,” she said, turning to face him, her expression solemn but determined. “I know it sounds stupid or dramatic or even childish. But you were hurt because I told my guards to help you. And now you’re here. Alive. I feel responsible. I want to stay by your side.”

Larkan frowned, shifting in bed despite the pain. “No.”

“No?”

“I don’t want your pity. I don’t need someone tagging along because they feel guilty or indebted. I’ve had enough of that in my life.”

“It’s not pity,” Rose said firmly. “It’s… something else. I don’t know what it is yet. But I feel it. Like I finally have a reason to move forward.”

He looked at her, searching her face for signs of insincerity. There were none.

“I’m not someone you want to be around,” he muttered. “You don’t know what kind of life I live. You wouldn’t survive it.”

“Then let me decide that,” she countered.

Larkan clenched his jaw. The girl was stubborn.

“I’ve seen blood,” she said softly. “I’ve seen death. You think I’ve been living a fairy-tale life, but I haven’t. I lost everything too, Larkan. My parents, my peace, my sense of purpose. I’ve been hiding behind a smile for years. And then you came along.”

He didn’t respond.

“You reminded me that it’s okay to be broken,” she whispered. “But not to give up.”

Larkan closed his eyes, exhaustion settling in again. “You should leave.”

“I won’t.”

He didn’t have the strength to argue.

Over the next few days, Rose stayed. She didn’t press him with questions, nor did she try to change his mind. She simply existed beside him, bringing him meals, adjusting his pillows, playing soft music, and reading books aloud to fill the silence.

And slowly, something shifted.

Larkan found himself listening when she talked. He caught himself watching her when she laughed. One morning, he woke to find her asleep on the floor beside the bed, arms crossed like a stubborn guardian. And for the first time in years, he smiled.

But he still kept his distance.

He trained in the gardens when his body healed enough to move. She watched from the balcony, sometimes cheering, sometimes silently sketching. He never asked what she drew.

Larkan found her presence oddly soothing. Annalyn had come by once, fussing over him and checking on her cousin’s health. But even she noticed something strange in the air—an unspoken bond forming between her best friend and the man she feared most.

“You’re playing with fire,” Annalyn had warned Rose that night.

“I know,” Rose replied. “But maybe I need to get burned.”

Larkan overheard the conversation from his room. And though he would never admit it aloud, a part of him, one he buried deep, didn’t want Rose to leave.

Late one evening, a storm rolled in. The thunder crashed outside, and Rose brought an extra blanket to Larkan’s room.

“You should be resting,” she scolded gently when she found him sitting up.

“I’ve rested enough,” he said. “I’m going back home tomorrow.”

Rose paused. “Already?”

“I’ve stayed too long.”

She looked down. “I see.”

He watched her carefully. “You’re not coming with me.”

“I didn’t say I would.”

“But you were planning to.”

She looked up, eyes fierce. “Yes. I was.”

“Don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t protect you,” he said flatly. “I don’t want to lose another person.”

“You haven’t even let yourself have one,” she snapped, the frustration finally boiling over. “You think pushing people away keeps them safe? Maybe it does. But it also makes you alone. And I think you’re tired of being alone.”

“You ever wonder what would’ve happened if we met under different circumstances?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

He smirked. “Maybe once.”

“I would’ve fallen for you anyway,” she said simply.

He looked at her then, really looked. And for a moment, he wanted to believe.

But he couldn’t afford to.

“Don’t fall for ghosts, Rose,” he said quietly.

“Then stop haunting me,” she replied.

Larkan looked away.

“I’m not asking you to love me,” she said. “I’m just asking you to let me be here. To let me be someone you don’t have to push away.”

The silence between them stretched long and deep, like a chasm.

Finally, Larkan said, “Just for now.”

Rose smiled, soft and understanding. “Just for now.”

Outside, the storm began to fade, but inside, something unfamiliar stirred in both of them. Not love—at least not yet. But something warmer than hate, deeper than gratitude, and stronger than fear.

It was the beginning of something neither of them expected.

And neither of them could stop.