Luciano's POV 

 

She's been asleep for two hours.

 

I know because I've been watching the clock, tracking every minute, making sure her breathing stays steady and her fever doesn't spike higher. Amaya's curled up on my bed—our bed, technically, since all three of us share this apartment now—looking smaller than she should. Vulnerable in a way that makes my wolf pace restlessly beneath my skin.

 

I hate seeing her like this.

 

"Her temperature's still too high," Javier says quietly from the doorway. He's been checking on her every twenty minutes, unable to stay away for long. None of us can.

 

"I know." I adjust the blanket over her carefully, making...