The operating room was too quiet.

Zayne stood over the surgical table, gloved hands soaked in blood, but the monitor beside him was flatlined. Sharp, high-pitched beeping rang in his ears like a siren. His heart hammered in his chest.

No matter how many times he shocked the body—your body—nothing changed.

“Come on,” he muttered, voice cracking as he pressed the paddles to your chest again. “Come on, stay with me—”

Blood stained your lips, and your eyes—your eyes wouldn’t open.

The nurses were frozen. The lights above flickered. And then a voice echoed behind him.

“You couldn’t save her.” It was his own voice. Cold. Detached. “You’re a doctor, Zayne. That’s your job, but you let her die.”

He spun around—but no one was there. Just the reflection of himself, pale and lifeless in the glass. He looked back down at you, but the table was empty.

Gone. You were gone. The lights above shattered into black. . Zayne woke with a violent start, breath caught in his throat. His body was tense with the aftermath of panic, heart hammering in his ribcage like it wanted to break free. His shirt clung to him, soaked with sweat.

His hand immediately reached beside him—desperate, trembling.

You were there. Asleep, curled on your side beside him, peaceful, unaware, but still, it wasn’t enough.

His fingers sought your wrist, pressing hard against your pulse point, his breath caught. His other hand hovered over your chest. For a second—just a second—he was terrified he’d find nothing.

But there it was.

A heartbeat. Yours. Steady. Warm. Alive.

He let out a breath like he’d been holding it for years. Shoulders shaking. sweat skewed on his forehead, he leaned down, pressing his forehead gently to your shoulder, eyes squeezed shut, each breath shuddering his body.

His voice was raw when he finally whispered, “I thought I lost you.” And he pulled you tight to his chest, his hand splayed over your back like he needed to feel every breath you took. And though he was the one known to be distant, cold, composed—right now, none of that mattered.

Right now, he was just a man afraid of losing the one person he couldn’t live without. And he wouldn’t let go. Not for the rest of the night.