The next timeI open my eyes, it’s because there’s a searing pain on one of my wrists. I wince and crack my eyes open.
“Ouch.” I try to pull my hand away, but it’s held in a gentle but firm grip.
“We’re almost done here, Savina. Just a little more discomfort.”
My eyes slide to the side to see Dr. Bale sitting on a chair that’s pushed close to the bed. He has on a pair of latex gloves and is dabbing a piece of gauze against the wounds around my wrist. They look raw, and the skin has been worn away in several spots. I remember the bite of pain as the ropes dug into my skin as I yanked and pulled at them.
The scent of antiseptic stings my nostrils, and I wrinkle my nose. I hiss out a breath when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.
“Sorry,” he murmurs.
A couple of moments later, my wrist is wrapped in a bandage, and he gently lays my hand down on my stomach. I must have slept through him tending to my other one because that one is already bandaged.
“I’m leaving some cream on the nightstand for your mouth and some extra gauze for your wrists. Change them once a day, and apply the ointment I’ve left as well, okay?” I nod. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to check on you.”
I nod again.
When he makes a move to stand, I grab his arm. “The baby?”
My heart is lodged so far into my throat that I can barely breathe as I wait for him to answer.
He smiles, and it lessens that feeling fractionally. “The baby is just fine. You’ve been out for a while, but we listened to the heartbeat, and it’s nice and strong.”
I sag against the pillows and close my eyes in relief. I open them a moment later. “Thank you.”
It’s not until he looks past me to the other side of the bed that I realize we’re not alone. Ryker sits on a chair, his brows pulled down, bent forward with his elbows on his knees. He looks utterly fucking wrecked as he watches me.
Dr. Bale leaves, and then it’s just the two of us. He doesn’t say anything as his eyes roam all over my face. They flick down to my wrists for a moment before moving to my stomach. I don’t like his quietness, or the turmoil he’s so clearly feeling.
“Ryker…”
The second his name leaves my lips, his eyes move back to mine. I suck in a breath at the sheer devastation twisting his features. I’ve never seen such turmoil and anguish on anyone’s face.
I push my hands into the bed to sit myself up, but I don’t get far before his rough voice stops me.
“Don’t.”
He stands and stalks around to my side of the bed, bends his knees, and scoops his arms under my body. After he lifts me, his ass hits the mattress, and I’m gently set down on his lapsideways. His eyes drop to my stomach, and tears spring to my eyes when his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.
Then his fingers slide through my hair, and he holds my head, his eyes boring into my soul as if he’s searching for something. His grip isn’t harsh, and when my face is pressed into the crook of his neck, it’s more so because he pushes his face into mine. His breathing sounds ragged when he pulls in a deep breath of air. I take my own deep breath, needing his oceanic scent in my lungs.
He still hasn’t spoken, and his silence is starting to worry me.
“Please say something,” I whisper against his skin.
He takes a couple more deep breaths before he lifts his head away from me. My eyes sting when I see his are glassy. He blinks and the moisture goes away, but I know if Ryker was capable of crying, he’d be doing it right now.
“I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life,” he says hoarsely. “Fuck, Savina.” His eyes fall closed. “I almost lost you. You and our baby.”
“Ryker.” I cradle his face. “Look at me.”
His beautiful, stormy eyes slide open, and they look so plagued with unbound torture. “I’m okay. I’m right here. We’re both right here. Safe and sound in your arms.”
Using my grip on his cheeks, I pull him forward until our lips touch. The kiss does what I had hoped, and some of the tremors I feel coming from him slowly begin to fade.
“I’m so sorry,” I say quietly.
The gray in his eyes turn molten. “What in the hell are you apologizing for?”