KNOX’S POV

Her hands find my face. My jaw. The gash across my cheekbone from Rafael’s claws, the split in my lip, the bruises layered on top of bruises.

She traces each one with her fingertips and the tenderness of it destroys me more completely than any wound Rafael inflicted because this woman was stripped and pinned to the ground and almost claimed by another man and she’s touching MY injuries like I’m the one who needs caring for.

“How did you find me?” Her voice is small. So small. The voice of a girl, not a woman, stripped back to something young and bewildered and afraid. “You were in...