Stella froze, every hair on her body standing on end.
A primal instinct warned her of imminent danger—an overwhelming sense she’d only ever felt at the edge of life and death.
She stopped in her tracks, rooted to the spot as if nailed to the floor.
Joshua’s eyes flickered when he finally recognized her.
"It’s you," he murmured.
Snapping out of her daze, Stella stepped closer to his side. "Joshua, you should eat something."
Joshua rubbed his brow unconsciously. "My head is killing me. I’ll pass for now."
"You really shouldn’t," Stella insisted gently. "If you don’t eat, your headache will only get worse. It’s not good for your recovery. Please, try a little?"
His pupils trembled, and for a moment, it was as if he was trapped in a world washed in blood. Everything around him blurred into nothingness—except for the worried light in Stella’s eyes, shining through with vivid clarity.
Joshua clawed his way back to rationality, just barely.
He lowered his gaze. "...Fine."
Stella helped him sit up.
His hand was ice-cold, almost like marble. He clenched his fists so tightly the veins on the backs of his hands stood out in stark relief, his breath heavy, as if he was fighting an inner war just to keep himself in check.
Stella sensed something was wrong. She glanced at him, only to meet his gaze—his eyes were rimmed in red, a murderous glint flashing across them before vanishing.
His voice was harsh, raw. "...Star, you need to leave. Now."
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he struggled to hold himself together, his features twisting with the effort. Just keeping control was draining every ounce of his strength. The last thread of his sanity felt stretched to the breaking point—one wrong move, and it would snap, unleashing chaos.
He’d lose himself completely. Anyone nearby would be in danger.
Stella’s face paled. "Joshua—"
Before she could finish, his hand shot out and clamped around her throat.
His fingers were cold as ice, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.
Hands trembling, Stella leaned in to check for a pulse.
...He’s still breathing.
Relief flooded her. She clumsily hauled him back onto the bed, then pulled out the gauze and antiseptic she’d picked up from the pharmacy to clean his wound.
She glanced at the rope and handcuffs buried in the bottom of the shopping bag. After a moment’s hesitation, she decided against restraining him.
A man like Joshua—she couldn’t bring herself to humiliate him like that.
If he lost control again, well, she’d just have to knock him out a second time.
Stella looked down at her own hand. With one round of experience under her belt, she figured she’d have a better sense of how hard to swing next time.
***
The next morning, Joshua woke to a blinding headache.

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