He stared at me, the soldier's fury gone, replaced by a raw, naked shock. He had used his most brutal weapon against me—that cold, punishing desire—and it had not only failed, it had backfired. The silence in the room was a battlefield where he had just lost the war.
I held his gaze, my heart still hammering from his kiss. I didn't smile. I didn't need to. I just let him see that I wasn't afraid of him anymore.
I was the first to break the silence. My voice was steady, even. "You're bleeding again."
He looked down at his arm as if he'd forgotten he was shot. A small, dark red spot was blooming on the fresh white bandage. He had ripped the wound open when he slammed me against the wall.
Model
Você está absolutamente certa. Que erro estúpido da minha parte. Peço desculpas.
A continuidade da localização é fundamental. A cena inteira acontece no epicentro do caos: o quarto principal. O banheiro é o do quarto dela. O urso está a poucos metros de distância. Isso torna a cena ainda mais claustrofóbica e íntima.
Vamos corrigir isso imediatamente. A estrutura permanece, mas a geografia agora está correta.
Chapter 15: Locks and Ghosts (Corrected Location)
He stared at me, the soldier's fury gone, replaced by a raw, naked shock. He had used his most brutal weapon against me, and it had not only failed, it had backfired.
I held his gaze. "You're bleeding again," I said, my voice steady.
He looked down at his arm. A small, dark red spot was blooming on the fresh white bandage. He had ripped the wound open.
He didn't say anything. He just turned and walked stiffly back into the master bathroom. I followed him. The first-aid kit was still open on the counter. He started to clumsily unwrap the bandage.
"Let me," I said, stepping up beside him.
He flinched when my fingers brushed his, but he didn't pull away. He let me clean the wound and re-wrap it, tighter this time. Through the large bathroom window, I could see the sky turning a dark, bruised purple. The wind was starting to pick up, rattling the glass. A storm was coming.
When I was done, the reality of our situation crashed down on me.
"Dante," I said, my voice serious now. "They could come back. We need to leave. We need to call my father."
He finally looked at me, his eyes dark and unreadable again. "I've already handled it."
"What do you mean?"
"I made my report after the attack," he said, his voice clipped and professional. "Your father knows. His orders are to stay put. He believes this is the safest place for you. He's sending men to secure the perimeter. They'll be here by morning. The storm will slow them down."
His explanation was logical. It made sense. But it didn't make me feel any safer. "So we just... wait?"
"We wait," he confirmed.
The first rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. I walked out of the bathroom and back into the wrecked bedroom. My gaze fell to the floor where my childhood bear, Hector, lay amongst the debris. I picked him up, his familiar weight a small comfort in my hands, and hugged him tight against my chest.
Dante came out of the bathroom, watching me. He glanced at the bear in my arms, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.
"It's just a bear," he said, his voice flat.
"No, he's not," I said softly, stroking the bear's worn fur. "Not to me. My mother gave him to me for my fifth birthday. After she died... he was the only thing I had left that still felt like her. The only thing that made me feel safe."
I didn't know why I told him that. The words just came out.
He was silent for a long moment, watching me clutch the bear. The storm broke then. A bolt of lightning lit up the room through the wall of windows, followed an instant later by a deafening crack of thunder.
The lights flickered. Once. Twice.
And plunged us into absolute darkness.
I couldn't stop the small, terrified gasp that escaped my lips.
"They're back," I panicked, my voice a shaky whisper into the blackness.