CLAUDE
I HAVEN’T SLEPT. Not really. I might’ve closed my eyes once or twice, but it didn’t count—not when the nightmares didn’t wait for sleep to drag me under. Didn’t count when every soft beep from the monitor made my heart lurch, when silence stretched too long and I thought—this is it. He’s gone.
But Nikolai still hadn’t opened his eyes.
They said he was unstable.
Said the poison from the blade was flushed out but now all I had to do was pray.
Said it like it meant something, like their words could undo what I saw—his blood, too dark and too much, slipping between my fingers while he laid there. I didn’t care what they said. He was still here. Too still. Too pale. Too wrong.
The bed barely dipped with his weight. His chest rose and fell, but it was shallow, mechanical, like his b
