—VAREK'S POV—
I was pacing like a madman. He was late again. Even after my warnings, even after I told those useless bodyguards not to leave his side—he managed to slip past. Worse, I knew he was with Zade. At this hour. Alone.
My phone burned in my hand. Dozens of missed calls, unanswered messages. Nothing. He ignored me completely.
My insides twisted. I can endure many things, but Nolan with someone else? No. I can't accept that. I'm jealous, fine—jealous to the bone. But he could have told me. He could have said something. Instead, he sneaks, hides, runs.
By the time the clock struck ten, my rage was boiling over. I was ready to storm the hospital myself, drag him back if I had to—when I finally heard the front door creak open.
He stepped inside.
At first, all I saw was red. My anger was pulsing through every vein, my chest heaving. I wanted to cage him, lock him away where no one—not Zade, not anyone—could ever see him like I do.
But then… he looked at me.
Usually, he'd snap back, try to provoke me, or at least explain himself with that sharp tongue of his. But tonight—nothing. His face was blank, pale. His eyes… empty. No spark, no fire. Just silence.
Our eyes met for only a few seconds, but it was enough. I felt my fury melt into something else—dread. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
In an instant, Zade didn't matter. Nothing did but the way Nolan's gaze slid right through me like he was already drowning.
Then he showed me the photo. And my heart stopped.
He shouldn't have seen that. Not him. Not now.
Danger clung to that picture like poison. And yet Nolan held it in his hands, demanding answers, screaming for truths I could never let him have. The more he pressed, the more I lost my grip. For the first time, my voice rose against him. At him. Nolan.
The second the words left my mouth, I knew—I'd crossed a line I swore I never would. His eyes flinched, his body pulled back from me. From me.
That was enough to shatter the last bit of control I had left. My fist slammed into the wall, splintering the plaster, before I spun on my heel and left him standing there. Alone.
Because right then, being near me wasn't safe. For him. For us.
I drove with no destination, no thought, just fury and regret swallowing me whole. The streets blurred past, but I wasn't running toward anything, only away from myself. I thought maybe the speed, the empty road, would quiet the storm inside me. It didn't.
When the haze lifted, one thought hit me like a knife: Nolan.
He must be confused. Terrified. Alone.
"Fuck," I muttered, gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. How could I do this to him? Walk out when he needed me the most?
A sharp uneasiness coiled in my chest, growing heavier with every breath. I knew this feeling too well—it was the same dread I felt the night he was attacked. A bond, that's what it was.
I always knew when something was wrong with Nolan. Always.
My lungs tightened. I couldn't breathe properly, my chest rising and falling too fast. Panic clawed at me,
pride means nothing where he's concerned. I have no self-respect when it comes to Nolan. Only the need to get to him.
I snatched my phone, hands trembling, and dialed his number.
No answer.
I called again. And again. Each ring was a blade twisting deeper, feeding the fear that something was already too late.
Hands shaking, I pulled over, opening the apartment's security feed on my phone. My stomach dropped. The screens were black. All the lights out.
Pitch dark.
My mouth went dry. He hates the dark. It freezes him. The marks on his arms flashed in my head like a warning. Not tonight. Not when I wasn't there.
"Please… please hold on, Nolan. Don't… don't hurt yourself." My voice broke.
I sped back like a madman, tearing through the streets until the apartment came into view. I barely stopped the car before running inside, keys fumbling in my bloody grip.
The moment I stepped in, darkness swallowed me whole. Silence, thick and suffocating. My heart thundered.
"Nolan?" My voice cracked. No answer.
I stumbled through the living room—empty. My chest tightened further.
Then I bolted toward his room, every step heavier than the last.
I pushed the door open.
At first, I saw nothing. Just shadows.
But then—there.
In the corner, huddled on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. His head was bowed, his body trembling so violently it hurt to watch.
And in his hand—glinting faintly in the dark—was a shard of glass. Clutched so tightly blood was already dripping down his wrist, staining the floor.
My heart dropped into my stomach.
"Nolan…" My voice barely escaped my throat, raw and broken.