AIDEN’S POV
The sharp, antiseptic smell of the pack hospital clung stubbornly to my skin as I carried Lisa up the stairs. Her weight was slight in my arms, almost fragile, her fingers clutching the back of my neck as if she feared I might let go.
Her face was buried in the crook of my shoulder, her breath warm against my collarbone. I tried not to notice how her body fit against mine, how her warmth seeped through the thin fabric of my shirt. I tried—and failed.
Guilt gnawed at the edges of my mind, a living, relentless thing. The doctor had said she was fine. The baby was fine. No real harm done—just fear. But fear had been enough to make me lose control. Her scream, the sight of her crumpled on the ground—it had unraveled me. I’d acted on instinct, pure and primal. Now, standing
