Still, compared to everyone else in this world, he was somehow becoming hers, and the realization horrified her.Because some reckless, aching part of her had known with absolute certainty that Maksim would never let them take her.
And he hadn’t.Maksim was injured, she realized, and yet his attention kept returning to her like he was checking she was still there, his responsibility, or something more than that.
Maksim turned back toward her.
“We need to move,” he said gruffly.
****
The second safehousewas smaller, cleaner but no less claustrophobic.For one, it had no windows facing the street.Lena sat on the edge of another unfamiliar bed while adrenaline slowly drained from her body.
Her hands wouldn’t stop trembling.Maksim locked the door behind them before finally swaying slightly, and only then did she realize how badly he was hurt.Blood soaked the side of his shirt.
“Maksim,” she began.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.You’re bleeding everywhere,” she pointed out.
He looked down briefly, almost annoyed by the inconvenience.“It’s nothing.”
“It’s absolutely not nothing,” Lena insisted.“Besides, if you bled out to death, what would happen to me?Where’s the first aid kit?”
He mumbled an answer and said nothing more as she retrieved the first aid kit.
The familiarity of this situation felt absurd now, as if tending wounds had somehow become part of whatever twisted thing existed between them.
Maksim sat heavily in the chair this time while Lena stood between his knees, carefully lifting the ruined shirt over his head.
Her breath caught at the sight of the bruises that darkened his ribs and the fresh cuts that crossed his skin.A deeper wound bled steadily near his shoulder.
“You need stitches,” she murmured.
“I know,” he muttered.
Her fingers shook slightly as she cleaned the blood away.Maksim watched her silently the entire time.The room felt too small again, and alarmingly intimate as well.
“You risked your life for mine ,” Lena said quietly.The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Maksim’s gaze darkened.“Of course I did.”
“Why?”Lena demanded.
Maksim didn’t answer her right away, as if he wasn’t sure of the answer himself.He then closed his hand around her wrist, his hold firm and possessive.Lena let him, although she could’ve pushed him away.His thumb brushed her pulse once.
“Because you’re mine,” he said.
Heat flooded through her so violently it frightened her.
Lena stared at him, at the blood on his skin, and the exhaustion in his eyes.She didn’t miss the terrifying sincerity beneath the words.
She should’ve argued with him, told him off, and yet something inside her gave way instead.Maybe it was shock or relief, or perhaps the unbearable intensity that had been building between them for days finally snapping under pressure.
She touched his face slowly and tentatively.Maksim went completely still.She brushed her fingers against the cut near his brow, and he dropped his gaze to her mouth instantly.
The air seemed to shift and neither of them moved for one endless second.
Then Maksim slid his hand into her hair, and without warning he kissed her.The kiss was hard and hungry, like restraint had finally broken.Lena gasped softly against his mouth.She gripped his shoulders instinctively as he pulled her closer between his knees.
