Valeria’s hand lingered on her wife’s shoulder, fingers brushing gently over the bruised skin. Even unconscious, she looked fragile, and that made Valeria’s chest tighten with a mix of protectiveness and possessiveness.

She leaned closer, lowering her voice to a soft murmur. “You don’t get to scare me like that… you belong here, with me.” Her thumb traced a light line along her wife’s jaw, smoothing a strand of hair away. “I won’t let anyone take you. Not again.”

Valeria checked the worst of the injuries, inspecting the swell on her wife’s forehead, the darkening bruise and the blood trickling along her temple. She dabbed a cloth at the small cuts, careful. “Mi vida… Let me fix you.”

Her eyes flicked to the door for a moment, then back to her wife. A low, possessive hum escaped her lips as she gently adjusted the blankets, tucking her closer.

For the first time since the rescue, Valeria allowed herself a slow exhale, letting her guard relax just slightly. Her wife was here, safe for now, and even unconscious, she could feel the bond tightening — a claim, a promise, a silent warning to the world: she is mine, and I will not let go.