Ruby’s POV
The air in the apartment felt like lead. I sat on the edge of the sofa, my body a map of throbbing aches and healing wounds. Every breath was a conscious effort, a reminder of how close I’d come to the dark. I was home, but the sterile, antiseptic smell of the hospital still clung to me, a lingering scent of mortality.
Alexander was a blur of frantic motion. He fell to his knees before me, his hands trembling as he hovered over my waist, terrified to even touch me. Then, he broke. He pulled me into an embrace so fierce, so desperate, that the air left my lungs in a sharp gasp.
"Alexander," I wheezed, my voice brittle, forcing a weak, pained smile. "The stitches... if you hold me any tighter, you’ll undo all the work the doctors did."
He pulled back instantly, his golden
