I woke to find Bastion in the chair beside my bed, as if he’d been sitting there all night and never thought to move.


    The shadow on his jaw made him look harsher, older. The tattoos, the darkness in his eyes. His knuckles broken bloody. By the looks of it, he hadn’t changed. I wondered if he had left the hospital at all.


    For a second, I thought I was still there—in the car, the rain, his voice cutting through the panic. Look at me. Don’t close your eyes.


    Then the IV tugged against my wrist when I shifted, and I remembered where I was.


    Alive at the hospital, recovering because of him.


    I remembered the way his jacket had been shoved over my chest. His voice steady when mine wasn’t. How he blocked me from the sparks and debris.


    If it hadn’t been him, I might not have made it out.


    My throat felt raw when I whispered, “Thank you.”


    His head snapped up. His eyes locked with mine. God, he looked tired.


    “Don’t,” he said, he looked down. “Don’t thank me for breathing.”


    “Bastion—”


    “You don’t owe me anything,”


    I looked down at the nket, my hand trembling as I pulled it closer. “I could’ve died. If you hadn’t?—”


    “Not while I’m breathing.” He cut me off before I could finish the sentence.


    Something inside me cracked. Gratitude and guilt tangled together, so much it hurt. What were the chances my ex-boyfriend would find me.


    I lifted my uninjured hand and touched his arm.


    He went still, like my touch startled him more than the crash had. That was when I noticed the bruising under the gauze, the way the wrap was already darkened through, the shards still caught beneath his nails.


    He had bled for me.


    “You’re injured,” I said softly.


    “Doesn’t matter.” His voice stayed rough, but he shifted enough that my hand could rest against him. Like he needed it, even if he’d never admit it.


    The guilt twisted sharper. “You smashed through a ss window. You could’ve been killed. You’ve seriously hurt yourself.” The words came out sharper than I intended, the first real crack in my voice.


    His mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “Better me than you.”


    “Is your elbow even okay? Your hand?”


    He shrugged. Didn’t answer.


    “Show me,” I demanded, surprising myself with the force of it. “I mean it, Bastion.”


    He held my stare for a long second, “I’m fine.” He spoke softer, but that didn’t change what I swore.


    I stared at his hand, the bruising covering his wrist. The sight gutted me.


    “You’re impossible,” I murmured, but my fingers tightened on his arm.


    His eyes softened even as his jaw stayed locked. “Doesn’t matter,” he repeated, quieter now.


    He leaned forward slightly, his other hand moved. He was about to reach for me, only to stop himself. Pulling back as he thought I’d push him away.


    That hurt more than my arm.


    I lifted my hand from his arm and touched his face instead.


    His jaw tightening under my hand for a second.


    “Why do you always do this?” I asked quietly.


    His eyes locked on mine. For once, he didn’t look like the controlled Crow everyone else feared. He looked like my Bastion.


    “Because you’re ours,” he said it in a way as if it was still true. “Always were.”


    My chest ached—not from the bruises, but from something older. Something I hadn’t let myself feel in years.


    I let my hand drop back to the nket. “You should go home. Shower. Get some sleep.”


    His head shook instantly. “No. You’ll leave.”


    “I can’t. It’s a hospital.”


    “Your brother will take you.”<fnf> For more chapters visit find?novel</fnf>


    That was when I saw it, the way his fingers pressed too hard against his thigh, the way his gaze wouldn’t stay still. He wasn’t calm. He was panicked, holding it down, hiding it under control.


    Shock, maybe. Or the wreck reying in his head. I knew one thing: if I had found him in that car, arm jammed under twisted steel, I wouldn’t be okay.


    I touched his arm again, softer this time. “Promise me,” I whispered. “When Lucaes up, you’ll shower. You’ll take care of yourself.”


    I wasn’t naive enough to think if one twin was here, the other wouldn’t be.


    His eyes closed briefly. When they opened, they were darker.


    I tired to keep my eyes open, my fingers tracing his arm just barely. I wanted to thank him again. Only Bastion would smash through a ss window and act as if it was nothing. I closed my eyes longer than I wanted.


    “Promise,” I said. “Promise you’ll take care of yourself.”


    I felt his fingers at my temple for a moment, brushing my hair back. The same way he used to when he thought I was asleep at the academy.


    “Okay, baby.”


    I thought maybe I imagined it. But it followed me into sleep anyway.