I shook my head.“I’m not leaving you to sleep on the floor.We’ll figure something out.”My voice softened.“Besides, I’m not exactly a helpless princess who’s going to complain about a pea.”
Logan glared, but I met his gaze without flinching.After a tense silence, he relented with a grunt.We arranged ourselves on opposite sides of the couch, the popping of the flames the only sound between us.The space between us felt charged with a current that had nothing to do with the storm outside.
Unable to sleep, I broke the silence.“You mentioned Reeve earlier.He’s the only Song who stood by you?”
Logan’s shoulders tensed, but after a moment, he spoke.“My cousin has always been different.He saw through Victoria’s games.When she turned the pack against me, he was the only one who spoke up.It cost him.”His hands clenched.“Exile was the price for both of us.”
Tears prickled my eyes at the raw pain in his voice.I shifted closer, as if my presence could ease his burden.“You didn’t deserve that.”
Logan let out a bitter laugh.“Maybe not.But I couldn’t stay.And now,” he gestured toward the bed.“Now this sickness is spreading, and I can’t stop it.”
I reached out instinctively, my hand brushing his arm.His skin was warm, but his muscles were coiled like a spring.“It’s not your fault, Logan.You’re trying to fix it.”
He turned to look at me, his dark eyes searching mine.For the first time, there was no anger, just exhaustion.Despite his grumpy exterior, he cared deeply, even if he’d never admit it out loud.
We fell into silence again.The storm raged outside without signs of stopping.Eventually, exhaustion overtook us both.I woke hours later, curled against Logan’s side, with my head resting on his shoulder.How did I end up here?After my middle-of-the-night bathroom trip, I must have settled on the wrong side of the couch.I froze, expecting him to pull away, but he didn’t.His breathing was steady, and his body warm and solid against mine.Taking a deep breath, his scent filled my senses.For a moment, I allowed myself to linger.The weight of his arm draped loosely over my waist kept me pinned in place.I could feel his fingers against the edge of my shirt.My heart thudded with a mix of panic and something softer I wasn’t ready to name.
Carefully, I shifted to look at him.In sleep, his features softened, erasing the usual scowl he wore.Firelight danced across his face, highlighting his sharp jaw and the faint scar along his cheekbone.My fingers itched to trace it, to smooth away the pain it represented.Instead, I closed my eyes again, allowing myself this small moment of closeness.
I recognized something in him.A kindred spirit beneath all that gruffness and growling.Someone who understood what it meant to be an outsider.
This is a job, I reminded myself sternly.Just a job.Don’t get attached.
But even as I thought it, I knew it was too late.Angel Spring was working under my skin, and so was its brooding protector.
When I opened my eyes, Logan was already awake, with his back to me as he tended the fire.The storm had passed, and birds were chirping outside.Despite the light filling the windows, Logan’s silhouette stayed stubbornly shadowed.He’d rebuilt the fire with military precision, each log placed like a soldier in rank.The boy’s steady breathing filled the silence between us.It was a hard-won but fragile victory.I flexed my stiff fingers, still smelling medicine and fevered sweat beneath the smoke.The boy stirred in the bed.I sat up, stretching sore muscles.
“He’s better,” I said, nodding toward the boy.
Logan glanced over.His expression was unreadable except for a flicker of relief.“Good,” he muttered, his voice still rough with sleep.Turning back to the fire, he poked at the embers.The silence between us felt different now, charged but not uncomfortable, as if the storm had washed away some barriers between us.
He didn’t turn when I stood.“You didn’t have to,” he said abruptly.
“Have to what?”
“Pretend.”His shoulders tensed.“Last night.You could’ve moved.”
The embers might as well have been my pride, crumbling to ash.So he had been awake.I forced a shrug.“Would you have?”
His silence was answer enough.
I brushed dust from my coat.“We should get him back to town.His parents will be worried.”
Finished with the fire, he got up and turned around.“Last night…” He trailed off.
I forced a small smile onto my face.“We had to stay warm.It was a matter of survival.”My tone was light, but my heart wasn’t.The memory of his warmth, how his body felt against mine, lingered.
Logan exhaled sharply, then nodded once.“Yeah.”Something in his eyes made my breath catch.For a moment, he might have said more, but then he turned away.
The boy opened his eyes, his small frame trembling as he looked around the unfamiliar surroundings before finding me.He sucked in a breath, and I could sense the fear rising in him like a tide.
“Hey there,” I said softly, keeping my voice warm and steady.I knelt beside the bed to reach his level.Up close, I saw faint freckles scattered across his pale cheeks.Sandy blond hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.He looked so young, so fragile.My heart ached for him.
“It’s okay.”I offered a gentle smile.“You’re safe.I’m Sabrina, a doctor, and I’m here to help you.”I reached out slowly, letting him see my hand before placing it on his forehead.His skin was cooler now, fever broken, but he still flinched.I kept my hand in place.“You’ve been through a lot, huh?”I teased gently, as if sharing a secret.“But you’re one tough kid.Fighting off that nasty fever like a superhero.”
His brow furrowed, but curiosity flickered in his eyes.“I’m not a superhero,” he mumbled hoarsely.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, pretending to consider.“High fever, nasty chills, and here you are, sitting up and talking.Sounds pretty super to me.”I winked, and his mouth twitched.
