Page 27 of Falling for My Shifter Boss

"I've got you," he whispers.

???

I barely register the sensation of movement until I feel the solid warmth beneath me. Strong arms hold me close, careful but unyielding, and the steady rhythm of footsteps echoes through the vast space around us. I blink sluggishly, my body still heavy from the wolfsbane, but I know exactly where I am.

Adrian.

His scent—sandalwood and winter storms—envelops me, grounding me even as exhaustion claws at my senses. Through half-lidded eyes, I take in glimpses of his home. Everything is exactly what I expected from him—sharp angles, floor-to-ceiling windows, and sleek modern furniture in shades of gray and black. A fortress of glass and steel, as controlled and imposing as the man himself. Yet there's something else too—subtle touches of warmth in the rich leather and dark wood, hints of the alpha beneath the businessman's facade.

"Put me down," I murmur, but there's no real fight in my voice. The wolfsbane has left me feeling disconnected from my wolf, like there's a wall between us, and my limbs feel like they're made of lead.

Adrian doesn't answer, but I feel the subtle flex of his jaw against my temple, the tension in his hold as if he's reluctant to let go. Still, he lowers me carefully onto the plush leather couch in his living room. The moment I'm free of his grasp, I sag against the cushions, wincing as my body reminds me of the abuse it's taken.

Sawyer Kane is already waiting, crouched beside the sleek coffee table with a med kit open, his steel-blue eyes sharp and assessing. He takes my wrist gently, his touch firm but professional.

"You'll heal fast," he says, examining the angry red burns left by the silver cuffs. "But the wolfsbane needs time to work its way out of your system."

I groan. "Great. So I just have to feel like death for a while?"

Sawyer's mouth quirks. "Pretty much."

Adrian growls lowly beside me, the sound vibrating through the air. His frustration is a palpable force, and I catch the way his hands clench at his sides. "What can we do?"

Sawyer reaches into the kit and pulls out a small vial of liquid. "This will help flush it out faster. Tastes like hell, though."

I sigh, too exhausted to maintain my usual stubborn independence. "Just give it to me."

He hands me the vial, and I down it in one go, instantly regretting my life choices. The bitterness burns all the way down, and I cough, my face twisting in disgust. "That's disgusting."

Sawyer snorts. "You're welcome."

He turns to Adrian. "Bandage her wrists. The burns will heal, but covering them will keep them from getting irritated in the meantime."

Adrian takes the medical wrap without hesitation, kneeling beside me. His movements are precise, careful, his large hands inexplicably gentle as he wraps the gauze around my wrists. Each brush of his fingers against my skin sends tiny sparks through me, and I can't tell if it's from the silver burns or something else entirely.

I watch him work, my throat tightening at the intensity of his focus. This is Adrian Blackwell—the cold, ruthless alpha businessman—handling me like I'm something precious.

I swallow against the lump in my throat. "I'm okay, you know."

Adrian lifts his gaze to mine, his storm-gray eyes dark with something that makes my breath catch. "You weren't."

The raw edge in his voice steals any response I might have had.

Sawyer straightens, snapping the med kit closed. "What she needs now is rest."

Adrian nods. "Then she stays here." His voice is final, brooking no argument.

I blink, fighting against the heaviness in my limbs. "I can go home—"

"No."

It's not an order, not quite. But there's something in the way he says it, something raw and unyielding, that makes me hesitate. The look in his eyes tells me this isn't about control—it's about need. His need to keep me close, to know I'm safe.

I'm too exhausted to argue, and if I'm honest with myself, I don't want to.

As sleep pulls me under, I feel Adrian's arms wrap around me again, shifting me carefully until my head rests against his chest. His warmth surrounds me, his scent lulls me, and for the first time since the hunters grabbed me, I feel truly safe. His heart beats steady and strong beneath my cheek, a rhythm that seems to say: you're here, you're safe, you're mine.

Just before I slip into unconsciousness, I hear his voice—low, rough, full of something that makes my wolf stir despite the wolfsbane.

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