Northside Clinic

Tucked away on the edge of town, the street outside was nothing but shadows

and silence. It was well past midnight, and not even the hum of a car disturbed

the darkness.

Inside, the clinic's lights cast a soft glow, catching on bottles and clean sheets.

Rowan lay on a narrow bed, battered and bleeding. Hanna, the on-call doctor,

worked quietly beside him, her hands steady, but her eyes sharp with worry.

Rowan's injuries were no joke-five deep cuts traced across his face, hands, and

back, not to mention a dozen smaller wounds. Hanna dabbed ointment on each

one, her touch careful. Rowan gritted his teeth, jaw clenched so tight the muscles

in his neck jumped. He never made a sound, not even when his body shuddered

with the pain.

He'd dragged himself in after a fight that should have killed him, Hanna knew.

Four men against one-he'd survived, but just barely.

A sheen of sweat clung to Rowan's brow, his whole body tense. Hanna couldn't

keep it in anymore. "Was it worth it?" she pressed, voice low but fierce. "You

almost died for her. Does she even know? Does she understand what you've

gone through? Every scar on your face, your chest, your arms-she's the reason

you're lying here!"

tangled inside her. She'd known

care about

his cheek, deep enough

because of Anastasia.

reply was barely more than a whisper. "It's not

made Hanna angrier-and left her aching, too.

Hanna wouldn't feel so bitter. But

a fool, throwing himself into

no idea.

ever finding out made Hanna's

she did? What if she cared for Rowan too, and Hanna lost

him?

thought, always letting their hearts get the

finished bandaging him up

to sound casual. "You

behind

he finds out,

stay here and

alright?"

nodded, eyes squeezed

like he

bit of

asked quietly, why

married. You

this can't end well."

Rowan's mind flashed

elevator at

the first time

to him. That was the

ever shown

ever really

was a crack of light

life. He didn't

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