Chapter Five
515 Words
[Almost Noon – Cynrim's Apartment]
The light in the room had shifted.
Sunlight poured through the curtains now, warm and golden, painting soft stripes across the hardwood floor. The birds on the balcony chirped around their morning feast the seeds and water she always left for them but today, their sound felt distant. Hollow. Wrong.
Cynrim sat motionless beside the couch.
Her eyes hadn't left him in over an hour.
Rover was still unconscious. His chest rose and fell steadily, but far too slowly for her comfort. He hadn't stirred, hadn't made a sound. She'd checked his pulse again. And again. His temperature. His breathing. Everything technically within survival range.
But it wasn't enough.
And she hated that.
She'd worked in warzone-level trauma centers. Set records in emergency medicine. Pulled survivors out of wrecks and watched life drain from bodies no one else could save. She knew blood. She knew wounds. She knew death.
But right now? In this apartment, with no monitors, no imaging, no sterile tools?
She felt helpless.
Her fingers curled into her lap, nails digging into her palms. All her years of study, her training, her skill it felt so damn fragile in the face of this silence.
Because if something went wrong...
If his body started to shut down...
She wouldn't know. Not fast enough.
Not in time.
Zayev stood by the window, arms folded tightly, jaw clenched as he stared at the street below.
"Zayev..." she finally said, her voice raw. "He should've woken up by now."
"I know."
She looked at him. Really looked.
His eyes were bloodshot. He hadn't slept either.
"He needs a real hospital," she whispered. "Machines. Scans. Observation."
"He can't be seen." Zayev turned to her, tone hard. "If Ezren finds out he's alive, he won't miss a second time."
That name. Ezren. The cousin.
The traitor.
The man who'd tried to erase Rover like he was nothing.
Cynrim swallowed. "So what now? We just... sit here and pray?"
Zayev was quiet for a moment. Then, quietly, "I have to go."
Her stomach twisted. "What?"
"He's my boss. My blood, too. But if anyone even thinks he's alive ,if word gets out ,the whole city goes to hell. I need to handle the cleanup. Silence anyone asking questions."
He paused.
"I wouldn't leave if I didn't have to. But you're the only one I trust with him."
Cynrim's throat tightened.
She wasn't used to being trusted. Not like this. With a life that weighed more than gold. A man everyone feared. A man bleeding on her couch, unmoving, and yet somehow... already pulling at something deep in her.
Zayev stepped toward her. "There's a gun in the bag. Keep it close."
She didn't reply.
She just nodded, eyes back on Rover, heart aching. Not for his scars. Not for the power he carried.
But for the terrifying fragility of him right now.
She'd seen strong men fall before. But something about this man...
It didn't feel like the end of a chapter.
It felt like the beginning of something neither of them were ready
- Writer
