I watched him break under the violet solution for forty-three agonizing minutes.
Every twitch of his powerful body, every choked groan, every time his muscles strained against the restraints — I catalogued it all. Not with pity. Not even with satisfaction.
With cold calculation.
Justin Halderman was no longer simply a patient.
He was a liability.
A very dangerous, very tempting liability.
I finally eased the flow of the flushing agent and stepped back, peeling off my gloves. His chest heaved as the worst of the pain receded, leaving him drenched in sweat, the hospital gown clinging obscenely to every ridge of muscle. The black veins had faded slightly, but they still marred his skin like a map of my control.
He turned his head toward me, golden eyes glassy but still burning with tha
