The screech of tires tore through the morning air.
Sorcha didn't have time to scream. One second she was on the crosswalk, the next—an arm yanked her back with startling force.
A car slammed to a stop just inches away, its engine growling.
Karios held her tight against his chest, breathing hard. "Are you insane?" he muttered, his voice low and shaken.
The driver jumped out, already yelling, but the moment his eyes landed on Karios, his fury vanished. His mouth snapped shut, and without another word, he dove back into his car and peeled off down the street.
Sorcha stood there trembling, her face pale. "I almost... I could've..." Her voice broke off, her knees threatening to give way.
Karios didn't say a word. He shrugged off his jacket and gently draped it over her shoulders, then guided her to the car like she was made of glass.
"I... I have class," she mumbled, trying to protest, but her voice sounded small—even to her.
"Not today," he said, not even sparing her a glance as he opened the passenger door and helped her inside. He buckled her in, shut the door carefully, and walked around to the driver's side.
The drive was silent. She kept sneaking glances at him, wondering if he was angry, but his face was unreadable—calm in that scary, bottled-up way.
When they reached the hospital, Karios parked, stepped out, and opened her door before she could even touch the handle.
"We really don't have to—" she tried again, her voice a whisper.
"You almost died," he snapped, finally meeting her eyes. His gaze wasn't cold—it was intense, filled with something fierce and complicated.
She didn't argue after that.
Inside, the hospital director was already waiting at the entrance, his posture stiff with nervous anticipation. Karios must've called ahead. Two nurses rushed over with a wheelchair.
"I can walk," Sorcha said weakly, but Karios ignored her. Again.
He stayed beside her through every test, every scan, arms folded, jaw clenched. It wasn't until the final results came in—no fractures, no internal bleeding—that he let out a breath.
"You're staying the night," he said.
"But I'm fine—"
"I said you're staying."
She blinked up at him, stunned. He'd never looked at her like this before—so protective, so... careful.
He didn't stop there. He placed three armed guards outside her VIP room and requested two private nurses to be on standby through the night.
By the time Sorcha settled under the sheets, still trying to process what had happened, Karios was already gone—off to move her things into his house, collect fresh clothes, and pick up dinner.
And she was left lying there, wondering if almost dying had somehow brought her one step closer to the man she'd been chasing for years.
By the time Karios returned, Sorcha was already dozing off, her phone clutched loosely in her hand. She had been texting her friends, explaining why she hadn't shown up at school. They promised to visit after class, but she'd told them not to worry—she'd see them tomorrow.
The sound of the door opening stirred her. A nurse peeked in, but when she saw Karios enter behind her, she gave a small nod and stepped back out without a word.
Sorcha blinked awake, her lashes fluttering as she pushed herself into a sitting position. A sleepy smile tugged at her lips when she saw him.
"You're back..." she murmured.
Karios didn't say much. He sat on the chair beside her bed, set the food container down on the bedside table, and opened it. Quietly, he picked up a spoon and offered it to her.
She tried to take it, but he shook his head.
"I'll feed you."
Her brows rose, surprised, but she didn't argue. Bite by bite, he fed her slowly, watching her the entire time. When she finally leaned back with a soft sigh, full and content, he stood and called the nurse to help her bathe.
He returned to his chair, laptop open on his lap, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he worked.
Moments later, Sorcha emerged from the bathroom, assisted by the nurse. Her damp hair clung to her shoulders, and she was dressed in a soft, floral nightgown that made her look more delicate than ever.
She saw Karios still working, and a mischievous spark lit her eyes. She dismissed the nurse and without a word, she walked over, gently took the laptop from his lap, and set it aside on the table.
"Sorcha—" he began, but she cut him off by climbing onto his lap and settling herself there like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"I'm tired," she whispered, snuggling against his chest. "Carry me, Daddy. Please?"
His entire body tensed beneath her.
"Sorcha," he said, his voice low with warning. "Go sit on the bed."
But she pouted and clung tighter.
"My shoulder hurts... will you give me a massage?" she asked sweetly, her tone laced with false innocence as she looked up at him with big, pleading eyes.
He stared at her, visibly frustrated, jaw tight—but eventually let out a sharp exhale and placed his hands on her shoulders.
"This is the last time," he muttered, beginning to knead gently at the muscles beneath her skin.
"Mmhmm," she hummed, clearly not believing him, a soft smile curving her lips as she leaned into his touch.
Sorcha let out a soft moan, her head tipping slightly to the side as Karios's hands worked gentle circles into her sore shoulders. The tension melted from her body under his touch.
Karios's jaw tightened. His gaze flickered down to her face—so close, too close. Her lashes fluttered, her lips parted slightly, and her body leaned into his with an innocence that felt anything but innocent.
He swallowed hard, a flicker of something dangerous stirring in his eyes.
Sorcha saw the change in him—the heat building behind his cool facade. She leaned in slowly, deliberately, her lips brushing against his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him closer, deepening the kiss.
Karios stiffened, his hands pausing.
"Sorcha..." he breathed against her mouth, trying to pull back, but she held fast.
He tried to pry her off—but it was like pushing against gravity. Futile. Inevitable.
And then, he gave in.
He kissed her back—hungry, lost, unable to fight the temptation she always seemed to awaken in him. In one swift motion, he lifted her and laid her gently on the bed, covering her body with his. The kiss deepened, fire sparking where their skin met.
She moaned again, arching beneath him as his hand slid over her chest, fingers curling around her breast and giving it a slow squeeze.
A knock shattered the moment.
"Mr. Martens? I'd like to have a word with you—may I come in?" came the voice of the hospital director from behind the door.
Both Sorcha and Karios froze, lips parted, breath heavy. Their eyes met—wide, startled, and slightly panicked.