(Anastasia's Point of View)
There had to be something wrong with me because, once again, I was violating rule number 3 as I knelt beside Enzo on the bed, assisting him in removing his blood-soaked sleeve shirt.
I frowned as I saw his wounded arm. I reached out to touch it, but he seized my wrist instead, and our gazes locked.
His blue eyes were corrosive, staring at where I crouched. I gasped and withdrew my hand slowly.
My gaze was drawn to a basin of spotless warm water and a towel that I had brought in earlier. I saturated the towel and squeezed the water out of it before looking up at him.
I stood there waiting for him to respond, order me away, and punish me for breaking rule number three.
Wasn't I really pushing my luck?
I started cleaning his laceration and pu
