Page 22 of Lords of Ruin: Cherished

“Same as yesterday,” I mutter. “Over it.”

She gives me a sympathetic smile, and finishes checking the cuff, scribbling down the numbers. Then she tilts her head slightly, her voice lowering just a touch as she glances toward the door. “How’s your... guard dog doing?”

I roll my eyes, though a small smile tugs at my lips. “You mean Damien?”

“Yeah. He’s been here so long, I should put him on the payroll.”

I snort, shaking my head. “I tried to get him to go home, but you know how he is. He just... won’t leave.”None of them will, if they can’t help it.

She smirks. “Having someone that devoted must be nice.”

“Multiply him by three,” I murmur.

She pulls out her stethoscope and places the cold metal against my back. “Deep breath in,” she instructs. Lindsey stifles a chuckle as she puts the stethoscope away and smiles sympathetically.“They got it bad, don’t they?”

I groan, leaning back into my pillow. “Worse than bad.”

Lindsey finishes up her charting, looking at me with a more thoughtful expression. “I get that it’s a little much. But honestly? I think you’re lucky. I see too many people go through things like this alone. You’re lucky you have somebody, even if it is over protective alpha males that are not good for your stress chart.”

I groan, leaning back into my pillow. “I guess I can count myself lucky that someone cares, but I’m not sure how much longer I can handle the constant hovering.”

Lindsey smirks, stepping toward the door and glancing out into the hallway. “Well, speaking of your alpha males…” She leans over, staring at the door. “You can stop eavesdropping and come in now.”

The door creaks, and Damien steps inside. Lindsey crosses her arms. "Your vitals are looking good, Willow. Blood pressure’s stable, heart rate a little weaker but that’s to be expected. What is new is your high blood pressure which I am assuming is from stress.”

“Understatement,” I mutter.Cast and Vincent can’t be in the same room together. Damien is recovering from a concussion. And a new update, my mother tries every other day to come visit me since Cast updated her on my condition.

Lindsey gives Damien a pointed look. “If Willow says jump, ask ‘how high’—no arguments.”

His lips curl as he glances at me. “Understood, ma’am.”

“I’m not fragile,” I protest.

Lindsey pats his shoulder. “Don’t let her fool you. She is.”

She pauses at the door. “I’ll check in later. And Damien? Make sure she rests.”

With that, she leaves the room, the door clicking shut behind her. The silence that follows is thick, almost suffocating. I cross my arms over my chest, refusing to look at Damien. He’s standing there, leaning against the wall with that infuriating smirk of his. His grey eyes are sharp as they wander over me. Ihate how he makes me feel transparent, like he can see right through me.

“I think you’re right, Willow” he says, his voice laced with amusement.

“I’m always right,” I tease, my voice sharper than I intend.

Damien pushes off the wall and takes a step closer, his hands in his pockets. He’s dressed casually, but he still looks like he stepped out of a damn fashion magazine. It’s unfair how effortlessly attractive he is. His blonde hair is outgrown from his usual buzz cut, strands stick up like he’s been running his hands through it, and his jawline could cut glass. I hate that I notice these things. I hate how my heart skips a beat when he’s near, because Damien said that nothing could ever happen between us.

“You know,” he says, his tone light, “there are better ways to deal with stress than glaring at people.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, really? Enlighten me.”

He smirks, and it’s dangerously charming. “Well, for starters, you could tryrelaxing. Ever heard of it?”

“Relaxing,” I repeat dryly. “Brilliant advice. I’ll get right on that.”

He chuckles, low and deep, and the sound sends a shiver down my spine. “You’re wound up tight, Willow. You need to let go. ”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He takes another step closer, and now he’s standing right beside my bed. His presence is overwhelming, and I can’t help but feel small in comparison. “It means,” he says, his voicedropping to a husky whisper, “that I can help youreleasesome of that tension. If you’ll let me.”

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