Nadia
At the sound of Vincent’s voice, I jumped. My fingers fumbled on the stitch I was on, needle pressing deeper into skin, and a fresh wave of pain flashed over my skin. Wincing, I tore my wrist out of Kael’s grip and tried not to cry out when my ribs shifted.
Kael scooted back on his chair. “Professor Voss,” he said, frowning as he eyed the man in the doorway. “Why are you in the medical room?”
I froze. Vincent was a professor here?
I was struck—not for the first time—by the reminder that I hardly knew this man. That though he had adopted me, he was still a stranger to me.
“My student was late,” Vincent grunted, gaze running over the blood on my shirt, over the stitching thread still sticking out of my skin. Student? He’d be the professor for one of my classes? “I needed to check
