Valerie shifted slightly in her sleep, trying to turn to the other side when something stopped her.
Something like a weight.
Something holding her in place.
Her brows furrowed as she tried to move again, but her body barely responded, like something was wrapped around her without her realizing it. A sharp jolt of panic went through her as she immediately pushed herself up.
"W-what…?"
Her hand fumbled for the lamp switch.
The room flooded with light.
And her breath stopped.
Azrael was there.
Inside her room.
Lying right beside her bed, his arm still loosely around her waist like he had been holding her there without her noticing. His shirt was gone, and for a second her brain refused to process what she was seeing.
Then she saw his back.
Her eyes widened instantly.
It was a mess.
Deep marks ran across his skin, angry and uneven, like he had been whipped repeatedly. Dried blood stained parts of it, and even in the dim light, it looked painful enough to make her stomach twist.
"Oh my God…" she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. "Oh my God…"
Her heart started racing so fast she could barely breathe.
Was he injured?
No—
That wasn't just injured.
That looked like someone had tried to tear him apart.
Her fingers trembled as she leaned closer without thinking, panic overriding everything else. "Hey… hey, Azrael…"
No response.
Her throat tightened.
"No, no, no…" she muttered under her breath, her hands shaking harder now. "Don't tell me—don't tell me you—"
She reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing his face just to check for warmth, for breath, anything.
The moment her fingertips touched him—
His eyes snapped open.
Fast.
Focused.
Alive.
Valerie barely had time to gasp.
"Are you okay—Ah!"
Before she could even finish, his hand closed around her wrist and pulled her forward.
The movement was sudden, firm, and completely unhesitating. She fell onto the bed in one motion, breath catching as the space between them disappeared.
"Azrael—wait—what are you—"
But he didn't answer.
His gaze stayed on her for a second longer than it should have, heavy and unreadable, like he was confirming something only he could see.
Then he pulled her closer again, not rough, but decisive, like he had already decided she wasn't leaving.
Valerie froze completely, her breath stuck in her throat as the silence between them thickened.
"Y-you're hurt," she finally managed, her voice unsteady. "You're seriously hurt, what happened to you—"
His fingers tightened slightly around her wrist.
Not enough to hurt.
Just enough to stop her from pulling away.
And for a moment, he just looked at her like she was the only thing in the room that made sense.
For a few seconds, Azrael didn't move.
His eyes stayed on her face, but there was something off about his gaze, like he wasn't fully there yet. His grip on her wrist had loosened slightly, his breathing uneven, as if he was trying to steady himself.
Valerie frowned, panic still rushing through her veins. "What happened to you? Who did this? You're bleeding—"
He didn't answer.
He just kept looking at her.
Slowly, his hand lifted and came up to cup her face.
Warm.
Firm.
Real.
Valerie stilled for a second, caught off guard, before her brows knitted tighter. "Wh-what are you doing? This isn't the time—"
Her eyes darted around frantically. "My phone—where's my phone—"
She twisted slightly, trying to reach for the side table. "I-I'm calling a doctor—"
Before she could move further—
He pulled her.
Hard enough to make her lose balance.
Valerie let out a small gasp as she fell forward, her hands landing against his chest, her face pressing right against him.
"Ah—!"
Her entire body froze.
He was—
Bare.
Completely.
Her face burned instantly as she felt the heat of his skin, the solid, unyielding muscle under her palms. His arm came around her again, holding her there, firm enough that she couldn't pull away easily.
Her heart started racing even faster.
"N-no—" she stammered, trying to push herself up. "What are you doing? You're injured—"
"No."
His voice was low.
Flat.
Right above her.
Valerie blinked, stunned. "No?" she repeated, completely baffled.
Her hands pressed against his chest, trying to push away, but his grip didn't loosen. If anything, it felt like he wasn't even trying, and yet she still couldn't move him.
And he was naked.
Under the sheets.
Her face flushed deeper.
"L-let go—!" she struggled, her voice rising slightly. "You're hurt! This isn't—this isn't the time for whatever this is!"
He didn't respond.
Didn't argue.
He just held her there.
Valerie swallowed, her panic mixing with frustration. "L-let me at least look!" she insisted, pushing against him again. "Please!"
There was a pause.
Then—
His arm loosened.
Just enough.
Valerie immediately pulled back, sitting up quickly as she turned toward his back again.
And froze.
The sight hadn't gotten any better.
If anything, it looked worse now that she was seeing it clearly. The marks were deep, uneven, some still fresh enough to make her stomach twist.
Her breath caught.
"Is that... whip marks?" she said slowly, the words sounding ridiculous even to her own ears.
Who would even—
Her brows furrowed deeper.
"Who would dare whip Azrael Hawthorne?" she muttered under her breath, disbelief clear in her voice. "The heir to the Hawthorne Empire… unless…"
Her eyes widened.
The thought hit her all at once.
"…Unless he's into that kind of thing—!"
Her hands flew to her mouth immediately.