Evelyn’s teeth clamped down on Alexander’s arm.

A sharp sting.

Blood surfaced instantly, stark against his skin.

She tasted the metallic tang.

Her eyes flew open in shock.

She released him just as quickly.

The mark she left was deep and angry.

Raw.

Undeniable.

Her chest constricted.

A war raged inside her—confusion battling a darker, unnamed emotion.

Why hadn’t he flinched?

Was he truly that numb?

Did he not care at all?

Alexander drew a slow breath.

His gaze dropped to the wound.

A soft chuckle escaped him.

His voice was low, teasing. "Feel better now? If not, you can bite the other arm. I’ll stay right here until your anger is gone."

Evelyn stared at him, incredulous.

His expression remained utterly composed.

After a long silence, she finally spoke. "Alexander, have you lost your mind? You're bleeding. And you still refuse to let me go?"

His voice was steady, resolute. "I'm not letting go. Not ever. Evelyn, please. I can't imagine a future without you in it."

Her eyes flicked back to his arm. "You're bleeding," she said, her tone sharp.

"I know," he replied, utterly unfazed.

She tried to pull her wrist free.

His grip only tightened, iron-strong.

Her disbelief grew. Her jaw clenched. "Alexander! You need this dressed. Let me go so I can take care of it."

He held her gaze, unblinking. "I'm not moving from this spot until you forgive me. Besides, the garden view is quite lovely from here."

"You..." She was speechless, fury simmering in her veins.

But as the blood continued to seep from the wound, a different emotion began to surface.

Worry.

It crept in, slowly eclipsing her anger.

She let out a frustrated sigh, closing her eyes in defeat.

Why was she always so weak when it came to him?

"Fine," she relented, taking a controlled breath. "I won't run. Now let go. I need to clean that wound."

But Alexander didn't move.

He was terrified.

If he released her, she might vanish again.

If this misunderstanding wasn't resolved tonight, he feared he would lose her forever.

Evelyn waited, her patience thinning. "Alexander, are you going to let go or not?"

"Promise you won't run?" he asked, his voice hushed.

"No, I won't run!" The words burst from her, laced with exasperation. "You might enjoy stargazing on damp grass, but I certainly don't."

His jaw tightened.

He finally released her wrist, a new concern forming—she might catch a cold.

Evelyn sat up swiftly, her movements sharp.

She looked back at him.

Their eyes met.

She saw the cautious uncertainty in his gaze.

She didn't leave.

Instead, she helped him up, guiding him back into his wheelchair with a surprising gentleness.

"Let's go inside," she said, her voice noticeably calmer.

She wheeled him into the living room.

Her nerves had settled, but the evening's tension still hung heavily in the air.

She retrieved the first aid kit.

Her hands were steady as she examined the bite mark.

Seeing it clearly now, under the bright light, her stomach twisted.

She hadn't realized how hard she had bitten him.

Her anger had been all-consuming.

The bite was deep.

No wonder it wouldn't stop bleeding.

As she carefully cleaned the wound, she felt his eyes on her.

She froze for a split second, caught off guard.

Quickly, she focused back on his arm, feeling a flush warm her cheeks.