Page 110 of The Beast's Broken Angel

I submitted to his ministrations, watching him work with those skilled hands that could heal or harm with equal competence.

Time would tell which.

But as Noah cleaned and rebandaged my wound, humming softly under his breath, I allowed myself a moment of dangerous hope. Harrison would still die. The war would still rage. Blood would still flow in rivers through London's streets.

But maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't face it alone.

“There,” Noah announced, securing the final bandage. “Try not to get shot again for at least a week.”

“I make no promises.” But I caught his hand before he could pull away, pressing it against my chest where my heart beat steady and sure. “Except one.”

“What's that?”

“When this is over, when Harrison's dead and his backers are ashes, when my family's honour is restored...” I paused, searching for words I'd never thought to speak. “I want to try. This. Us. Whatever it might become.”

Noah’s smile lingered like sunlight through smoke.

But I couldn’t hold it.

Not when his hand was still pressed to my chest. Not when the war was still coming. Not when I could already picture his body cooling in some dark alley because I couldn’t keep him safe. Because I’d let myself hope. Because I was selfish enough to want him.

“Adrian?”

His voice was soft. Concerned. Too gentle.

I stood too fast, chair scraping the tile as I backed toward the far wall of the medical bay. My breath hitched. My hands shook.

“Adrian,” he repeated, rising slowly. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” I couldn’t finish. Couldn’t speak around the weight in my throat. I wanted to tear my skin off just to stop feeling.

He crossed the space like he always did—fearless, stupid,mine.“Talk to me.”

I grabbed his wrists, spun him, shoved him up against the wall hard enough to make the shelves rattle. His eyes widened, but he didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away.

“You need to leave,” I ground out. “I can’t— I won’t lose you.”

“You’re not going to.”

“You don’tknowthat.”

His voice dropped. “Then show me. Make me understand.”

Something snapped.

My mouth crashed into his—bruising, brutal. He gasped against me, and I swallowed it, tongue forcing its way past his lips as I ground my body into his. His hands came up to my shoulders, then dropped, letting me take whatever I needed. No resistance. No hesitation.

I broke the kiss only long enough to whisper, “Say you want this.”

“I want you,” he breathed. “Even like this.”

That was all I needed.

I tore his shirt open, buttons clattering across the tile. He hissed as I bit down on his collarbone, hard enough to mark, not enough to break skin. He groaned, arching into me.

My hands were shaking as I shoved down his trousers and briefs in one motion, baring his cock—already hard, already leaking. Fuck, he was beautiful. My chest felt too tight for my ribs.

“Turn around,” I growled.