Askold returned with a tube of thick, dark-green ointment that smelled intensely of medicinal herbs. Together, we carefully applied a generous layer over the burn—taking care not to pop the rising blisters—and wrapped my lower leg in a clean layer of white bandage from the nurse’s leftover supplies.
Realizing my jeans were soaked around the right hem with the toxic residue, I limped toward the cramped, rundown bathroom with cracked paint on the walls. I peeled off the denim, standing in my shirt and underwear, and scrubbed the stained pant leg thoroughly under running water with a bar of soap to neutralize the chemical.
A soft knock sounded at the door. Through a crack, Askold passed me a scuffed, dated hair dryer with a cracked plastic casing.
I blinked in surprise that such a luxury existed in this rotting hideout. Then again, people tossed perfectly functional electronics onto city junk heaps every day; with Askold’s brilliant hands, repairing a discarded hair dryer was child’s play.
Plugging it in, I dried the damp denim with a steady stream of hot air before gingerly pulling the jeans back on, careful not to catch the fresh bandages on the fabric.
As I stepped out of the bathroom, Askold—who had been waiting in the hallway—looked up with genuine concern.
"How’s the leg?" he asked softly. "Is the pain holding off?"
"It’s okay, tolerable," I assured him, forcing a strained smile even though every step sent a sharp throb up my leg. "I’ll be fine. Thank you for your help."
Stepping back outside, I navigated the crumbling porch with extreme care, giving the tainted puddle a wide berth. But as I reached the lopsided fence near the threshold, my blood ran cold.
A sleek black car with heavily tinted windows was parked right by the gate, and Magnus was striding toward the house.
Even from a distance, his eyes locked onto mine with a wave of absolute, sub-zero fury. It was a dark, tightly coiled rage so dangerous that every self-preservation instinct I had screamed at me to bolt back inside and cower in the basement.
Slowly—devastatingly slowly—his heavy gaze shifted to Askold, who had followed me out and now stood right beside me on the porch. Magnus’s eyes burned with such raw, unadulterated animal hostility that I flinched. Desperate to defuse the suffocating tension, I babbled frantically, shifting nervously from foot to foot as my burned leg throbbed.
"I... I just came to visit Adam," my voice tumbled out, breathless and erratic. "He’s really sick—he has pneumonia. I only wanted to help, and—"
It was useless. Between the two Alphas, an intense, almost physical pressure detonated in the air. The atmosphere grew so thick and heavy it felt hard to draw a breath. Neither man blinked; neither backed down.
I could see Askold fighting with everything he had to maintain control. His fists balled into stone, the corded muscles of his forearms bulging, his jaw locked tight as a muscle in his cheek twitched violently. Maintaining restraint in Magnus’s presence was costing him every ounce of his willpower.
"We are going home. Right now," Magnus commanded. His voice was terrifyingly level, flat and iron-hard. He didn’t even look at me, keeping his arctic glare pinned straight on Askold. "Get in the car."
Something inside me snapped. A sudden, scorching surge of rebellion washed over my fear, consuming whatever common sense I had left.
"No," I declared, my voice echoing across the courtyard as I tilted my chin up in defiance. "I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m staying here."
Magnus’s eyes snapped to me in an instant, a flash of something so pitch-black and lethal flaring in his irises that a genuine chill raced down my spine.
Askold, choosing that exact moment to pour gasoline onto the fire, let out a low, mocking laugh.
"She can stay if she wants to. If she feels safer here," he said with a casual shrug, though his eyes were sharp as razors. "We don’t mind. She’s always welcome."
"I will break your spine in half," Magnus growled through gritted teeth, taking a single, slow, terrifying step forward.
Askold didn’t yield an inch. He descended the porch steps, coming down to stand eye-to-eye with Magnus.
"Come on then," Askold spat, nodding toward the alley behind the ruined structure, his voice laced with pure, reckless provocation. "Let’s step behind the building. We’ll see who breaks who. I’m sick of your fucking face already."
Watching the suffocating aura of pure aggression fill the air between them, panic seized my chest. I couldn’t let this turn into a bloodbath. I refused to let anyone else get hurt, maimed, or killed because of my foolishness, my recklessness, and the mess of my life.
"No! Stop it! Enough!" I screamed, my voice cracking into a high-pitched, desperate plea.
Ignoring the sharp, agonizing throb in my leg, I stumbled down the porch steps as fast as I could and threw myself into the space between them, snatching tightly onto the sleeve of Magnus’s expensive leather jacket.
"I’ll go with you! Do you hear me?!" My voice trembled, raw with frantic emotion as I pulled at his arm. "I’ll go with you, Magnus! Just stop... please!"
Gritting my teeth in raw frustration—at myself, at him, and at the absurd, intolerable trap my life had become—I limped heavily toward his black sedan. Dragging my injured leg, I slid onto the passenger seat and slammed the door shut with all the bitter defiance I had left.
For the first five minutes, an absolute, suffocating silence hung between us in the cabin. Heavy. Crushing. I kept my face stubbornly glued to the side window, watching the blur of buildings, trees, and strangers pass by, completely unable to bring myself to look at him.
Magnus stared straight ahead, his eyes fixed on the road. He gripped the leather-wrapped steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were bleached stark, ghostly white. He looked as though he might snap the wheel in two with his bare hands at any second.
When he finally spoke, his voice was stretched thin, taut as a piano wire,
"I know everything that happened today," he paused, his jaw tightening. "Lina. The filthy rumors she was spreading. What she spat at you in the locker room. Annie smashing her face in. Everything."
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