Chloe’s pov
The door opened without a knock, and I barely had time to turn my face toward the pillow before Nash's voice filled the room.
"Don't."
I froze, half-curled on my side, my cheek still throbbing where the worst of the cuts sat.
Lamplight from the hallway spilled in around him before he shut the door, and for a moment he just stood there in the doorway, taking in the state of me before he moved.
He crossed the room carrying a basin of steaming water in both hands, a small collection of jars and folded cloths balanced along his forearm, and set the whole arrangement down on the table beside my bed with a care that seemed strange coming from someone his size.
"I'm fine." I turned my face further into the pillow anyway, some old instinct still telling me to hide the damage ra
