Chapter 6 - Fire and Flesh"Touch her," a voice growled from the doorway, "and I will tear this tower down around your head."
Victor froze.
Adrian Park stood in the doorway of the hospital room.
He wasn't wearing his executive suit. He wore a dark leather jacket, his dark hair messy from the rain, his eyes burning with a lethal, terrifying fury that seemed to fill the entire room. He was completely bare-handed—no leather gloves, no protection.
Beside him, Marcus Webb and four armed security guards flooded into the room, instantly engaging Victor's mercenaries in a silent, brutal wave of hand-to-hand combat.
Gunfire didn't echo; Marcus and his men moved with tactical precision, disarming Victor's guards and slamming them to the floor in seconds.
Victor panicked, grabbing the syringe and lunging straight for my neck.
"Adrian!" I screamed.
Adrian didn't hesitate. He didn't care about his nerve endings. He didn't care about the liquid fire that usually consumed his body upon physical contact.
He threw himself forward, grabbing Victor’s arm with his bare hands.
An agonizing gasp tore from Adrian’s throat as his bare skin made contact with Victor’s suit and wrist. The phantom neurotoxin inside his brain screamed, sending waves of pure shock through his body, but Adrian refused to let go. He twisted Victor’s wrist with terrifying strength, forcing the older man to drop the syringe onto the floor, where it shattered against the tile.
Adrian slammed his fist straight into his uncle’s jaw. Victor crashed backward into the wall, collapsing unconscious beside Julian, who was cowering on the floor like a coward.
Adrian stood over them, his chest heaving, his body trembling violently from the sheer overload of sensory shock. Sweat was pouring down his forehead, his face pale as death.
He turned slowly to look at me.
"Maya..." he choked out, his knees buckling beneath him.
I broke free from the guard's grip and caught Adrian before he hit the floor.
I pulled his head into my lap, wrapping my bare arms around his shoulders, pressing his bare hand tightly against my cheek, my skin, my heart.
"I'm here," I sobbed, holding him with everything I had. "I'm right here, Adrian! I'm touching you! Let it burn away!"
The moment my skin covered his, the violent trembling in his body began to slow. The agonizing heat in his nerves was instantly absorbed by the warmth of my touch. His ragged breathing settled into a deep, heavy rhythm as he lay in my arms on the cold hospital floor.
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He opened his dark eyes, looking up into mine, his hand cupping my face gently, his thumb wiping away my tears.
"It doesn't hurt," Adrian whispered, a genuine, breathtaking smile breaking across his handsome face for the first time since I had met him. "When I hold you... it doesn't hurt at all."
