Page 142 of Bleed with Me

Nina was right. The moment I entered Malin’s room, the fear, pain, and anxiety returned with full force. Aryna’s cheerful smile helped me hold on to the calm that settled in my chest after spending the morning with Zyon and a brief moment with Nina. Still, once I closed the door to that sterile, claustrophobic room with beeping machines and tubes, everything collapsed.

My mind swirled with horrible scenarios, imagining the consequences of brain damage and a coma. I replayed the entire surgery over and over again, analyzing if I had made a mistake that could cause this.

We did everything right, the demon lashed out in my head, the darkness swallowing my rational thoughts. Right! Right! Right!

My hands pressed against the sides of my skull on instinct. I bent over and slowly crouched down at the end of Malin’s bed, sealing my lips so no noise escaped. I wanted him to shut up, to disappear and let me suffer alone. But the more I tried to get rid of him, the stronger he was. He blossomed on my misery and fear.

“Doctor?”

I jolted out of my trance, realizing I was kneeling on the floor. One of my new residents, Linda, ran to me.

“Should I call someone?”

She dropped to her knees beside me, concern on her face.

“No, I’m fine,” I exhaled, pushing myself up. My body trembled, and my palms were sweaty, but I forced a smile. “I lost the pin from Malin’s chart. It’s probably under the bed.”

“And what happened to your face?” Her eyes widened in shock.

“Sparring session,” I sighed. “I’m okay.”

She didn’t believe me. I could tell from the doubtful look she cast at me, but instead of questioning me, she stood up and pointed to the tray she brought.

“I’m here to change the bandages.”

“I’ll do it,” I said, finally having a chance to feel useful. “You can go. Take a coffee break or something.”

“I can help…” she started, but I shook my head resolutely.

“I’m good. Go.”

Thankfully, she listened and left the room. I let out a shaky breath and grabbed the footboard to steady myself.

You caused this, the demon seethed. It’s your fault. You made him like this!

“Stop. Seriously, stop,” I mumbled under my breath. “Or I’ll swear to God I’ll sedate myself.”

He snickered, but let me do my job. My hands steadied as I reached for the sterile gloves. I examined the incision, looking for signs of infection, unusual redness, or swelling, but everything looked as it should. Malin’s body was healing like any other patient’s, yet his mind refused to follow.

“I told Nina about our first kidnapping,” I revealed while checking the JP drain. “She deserves to know about the fucker inside my head.” I emptied the collection bulb and replaced the dressing. “She took it surprisingly well, considering I admitted I committed murder at eight.”

I chuckled, glancing at Malin’s bruised face.

“How many of them did we commit together, huh?” I stripped off the gloves and tossed them onto the tray. “Disposing of bodies is another category, right?” I plopped on the chair beside him. “Or hunts. Your perfect hunts with dogs, snakes, and…” My heart jumped with excitement at the sudden memory. “Bees. That one was epic. Do you remember? It was glorious payback.”

Leaning closer, I tenderly took Malin’s bandaged hand, a huge lump blocking my throat.

“Unforgettable,” I mumbled.

Tears fell down my cheeks at the thought of never doing those things with him again. I’d never experienced so much fun with Zyon as I did with Malin.

Street fights, illegal races, gambling, truth and dare that got out of hand—we’d done it all. Malin always looked bored, but I knew he enjoyed it, too. It was our way of coping with the world we were born into.

While Zyon carried the responsibility of being our boss, Malin and I were the enforcers, strategists, security, backup, whatever the family needed us to be.

How the fuck could I do it alone? I couldn’t do it alone. I didn’t want to.

The gentle ping of my phone cut through the sadness gnawing on my chest, and I wiped my cheeks. Unlocking the screen, I exhaled a tiny laugh.