The hospital doors hissed open as the rain eased into a mist outside, soft and grey.
Cassian stepped out first.
Then he turned back for her.
He didn't wait for the nurse.
He didn't ask for permission.
He simply bent down, one arm behind her back, the other under her knees, and lifted Juliette gently so gently she almost didn't believe it was the same man who terrified entire boardrooms.
Her fingers clutched weakly at his shirt when pain stabbed her ribs.
Cassian froze.
"You're okay," he murmured, voice low, steady.
He adjusted his hold so nothing pressed against her bandages. "I've got you."
She didn't reply.
She couldn't trust her voice.
Not with the swirl of emotions choking her fear from the accident, confusion about him, the sharp memory of that woman, and the overwhelming warmth of his body pressed against hers.
He's holding me like I matter… but I know better.
Her head rested lightly on his chest as he carried her across the pavement toward the black limousine waiting near the curb.
The driver jumped out immediately, rushing to open the door.
Cassian didn't hand her over.
He shifted her closer, one hand splayed across her back, feeling every shaky breath she took.
Inside the limo, the world became dark leather, soft silence, and humming warmth.
Cassian eased onto the seat with her still in his arms.
He didn't let her sit on her own.
He didn't let space exist between them.
Juliette blinked, confused.
"You… you can put me down," she whispered, embarrassed.
Cassian's arms tightened just slightly.
"You're hurt," he said simply.
"No unnecessary movement."
His voice was calm, but his pulse under her cheek was anything but.
Juliette swallowed hard and looked away.
Her mind whispered ugly truths:
He's doing this because she's a Vale.
Because my name is tied to his.
Because it would look bad if I died under his roof.
Not because of me.
But his heartbeat was steady beneath her ear, and the rhythm felt too human, too raw to belong to someone who didn't care.
Her eyes grew heavy from the medication and exhaustion.
Cassian watched her closely.
The dim lights from the street slipped across her face, highlighting the faint bruises, the cut near her temple, the exhaustion weighing down her lashes.
She looked small.
Too small.
Too breakable.
He hated it.
He hated the way something twisted inside him at the sight.
Hated the way holding her felt both necessary and terrifying.
Juliette's breathing started to slow against his chest.
"Are you in pain?" he asked quietly.
She shook her head.
But she didn't move away.
Didn't lift her head.
Didn't try to pretend she didn't need the stability of his body around her.
Cassian shifted his coat, draping it over her shoulders.
"Rest," he murmured.
His hand instinctively brushed her hair away from her face.
He froze halfway, confused by his own movement.
He wasn't gentle.
He wasn't tender.
He wasn't this kind of man.
But somehow… she made him softer without even trying.
Juliette felt the warmth of his coat.
Smelled his cologne darker, stronger, cleaner than anything she had ever known.
She whispered, barely audible:
"I didn't expect… you'd be here."
Cassian stared down at her.
"In the hospital?"
"In any place where I'm hurting," she said softly.
It hit him like a blade between the ribs.
He didn't show it.
He only said, voice rougher:
"I told you I take responsibility for what's mine."
Her eyes flickered.
Of course.
Mine.
Not me.
The words stung more than she wanted to admit.
She nodded weakly and closed her eyes, the weight of everything dragging her under again.
Cassian watched her.
Really watched her.
Her lips trembled with exhaustion.
Her hand had unconsciously caught the fabric of his shirt, holding onto him even in sleep.
His chest tightened in a way he didn't understand.
He wasn't supposed to feel this.
Not for someone he barely spoke to.
Not for a woman he kept at a distance.
Not for a wife he married for convenience and forgot to acknowledge.
Yet here she was curled against him, fragile and warm and the thought of letting go made something primal twist in him.
He whispered, so quietly no one could hear:
"What the hell are you doing to me?"
Juliette didn't answer.
She had finally fallen asleep on him, her breath soft against his chest.
Cassian adjusted her again, making sure she rested comfortably.
His thumb brushed the back of her hand where she held onto him.
He didn't pull away.
Didn't loosen her grip.
He let her cling to him.
And he stared out the tinted window as the city lights blurred past, his jaw tight, his mind drowning in thoughts he had never allowed himself to feel before tonight.
She shifted faintly in her sleep, wincing.
Cassian's hand immediately steadied her.
"It's okay," he whispered. "I'm here."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Words he had never said to anyone.
Not in that tone.
Not with that softness.
The limo drove through the dark streets toward the Vale mansion, but inside the car… the air felt different.
Thicker.
Warmer.
Charged.
Cassian looked down at the girl sleeping against him his wife and for the first time since marrying her…
he felt something dangerous forming in his chest.
Something he didn't have a name for yet.
But it was there.
Growing.
Waiting.
Burning.
And Juliette fragile, scared, recovering had no idea the world she was about to wake up to.