He didn't say anything as he walked toward me—just tilted his head slightly, eyes flicking to my mouth like he was trying to figure out how fast he could silence me with a kiss.
And then he did.
His lips crashed into mine, fierce and needy. One hand cupped the back of my head while the other—
"Wait!" I gasped mid-kiss, pulling back suddenly. "Your hand."
Kael blinked, confused. And annoyed.
"Give it to me," I said, reaching for it.
He didn't move.
"Kael. Sit your fucking ass down now."
The look he gave me was half amused, half surprised—like a mother yelling at her reckless son who just tried to skateboard off a roof.
"Fine," he muttered, and dropped onto the couch with the most dramatic sigh I'd ever heard.
I knelt in front of him, pulling the first aid kit closer and gently dabbing at the wounds. His knuckles were raw, red, and ugly, but he didn't flinch once. Not even when I applied the antiseptic.
