Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

F elicity

I can hardly believe my eyes. Raj stood before me, not entirely human, but something else entirely, something magnificent and terrifying. A weretiger. The realization crashes over me like a wave, but there's no fear, only awe. He protected me.

His transformation has faded, leaving him human again, crumpled on the floor. Blood seeps from a gash on his arm. I drop to my knees beside him, my hands trembling as I reach out.

"Raj, are you okay?" My voice quivers, shattering any semblance of calm I tried to maintain.

"Yeah," he grunts, attempting to push himself up. "Just a scratch."

"That's more than a scratch," I retort, pressing my hand firmly against the wound to slow the bleeding. "We need to get you out of here."

He manages a faint, strained smile. "You're bossy when you're worried."

"Shut up and let me help you," I snap, my voice tinged with both frustration and fear. I hook my arm under his, struggling to lift him. He's heavier than he looks, but adrenaline gives me the strength I need.

We stumble toward the exit, every step a struggle. The club's dim lights flicker above us, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Raj's breath is ragged in my ear.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask between grunts of effort.

"Not exactly first-date material," he replies, wincing as we reach the door.

Outside, the cool night air hits us like a slap. I lead him to a nearby bench and ease him down.

"You shouldn't have done that," I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I had to," he whispers back, his breath hot against my cheek. "Couldn't let that asshole hurt you."

I tear off a piece of my apron, my hands shaking as I press it against his wound. "You're crazy," I murmur, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

His eyes meet mine, warm despite the pain etched across his face. "Maybe," he replies with a hint of a smile, the kind that makes my heart skip a beat despite the dire situation. That smile is so Raj—charming and infuriatingly confident, even now. For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of us, and I almost forget the blood seeping through my makeshift bandage.

I can feel his heartbeat under my fingers, strong and steady despite everything. It's strange how this moment—so raw and real—feels more intimate than any touch or kiss I've ever known. The warmth of his skin against mine, the rhythmic thump that reassures me he's still here, fighting for me. It's as if his very essence is seeping into my soul, binding us together in a way words never could .

"You saved me," I say quietly, my voice barely more than a whisper.

"And I'd do it again," he answers without hesitation, his words firm and unwavering.

I shake my head, trying to process everything. The weretiger thing is shocking, sure, but what hits me harder is how much he cares—how much he's willing to risk for me. My mind races, replaying the events of the night. The way he leapt into danger without a second thought, the fierce protectiveness in his eyes. It's almost too much to take in.

"Why?" I ask, my voice trembling with the weight of the question.

His grip on my hand tightens, grounding me in the moment, his gaze never wavering from mine. "Because I care about you, Felicity."

The sincerity in his eyes makes my heart ache. For the first time in a long time, I feel a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I can trust again.

"Let's get you out of here," I finally say, breaking the silence that hangs between us.

"Felicity," he starts, his voice full of emotions I can't quite decipher, but I cut him off gently.

"We'll talk later," I insist, trying to keep my voice steady. "Right now, you need rest. You've done enough for today."

Raj leans heavily on me as I help him up, his weight solid and reassuring against my side. My apartment isn't far, but every step feels like a mile with him injured. His breathing is ragged, but he doesn't complain. The adrenaline that had fueled me moments ago begins to wane, leaving me shaking with the aftermath.

"Hang in there," I murmur, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "We're almost there." Each step feels heavier as I bear some of his weight, but the warmth of his body against mine keeps me grounded. I can feel his muscles tensing with every movement, a reminder of his strength even in this vulnerable state.

Each step he takes sends a ripple of tension through his body, and I can't help but marvel at the raw power just beneath his skin. It's hard to believe that someone so strong could be brought low, yet here he is, leaning on me. His resilience is palpable, giving me the determination to keep going despite my own exhaustion.

His arm tightens around my shoulders, and he grunts in acknowledgment. Each step feels like a lifetime, the quiet streets amplifying the sound of our footsteps. We stumble through the night, the weight of his injury pressing down on both of us. When we finally reach my building, I fumble with the keys, cursing under my breath at my trembling hands.

"Easy," he says softly, his breath warm against my ear. His attempt at humor nearly pulls a smile out of me. Despite everything, he manages to be comforting, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos.

I manage to get the door open and we half-walk, half-stagger inside. The elevator ride up to my floor is a blur of tension and worry. Once inside my apartment, I guide him to the couch and ease him down gently.

"Stay here," I instruct, heading to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. My hands are still shaking as I rummage through the cabinet. When I return, Raj is leaning back with his eyes closed, his breathing shallow.

"Raj," I say softly, touching his arm to get his attention. His eyes flutter open, revealing a flicker of relief. He offers me a weak smile, a hint of his usual charm breaking through the pain that's etched across his face.

"Thanks for this," he mutters, his voice strained but sincere. The gratitude in his eyes is unmistakable, and it tugs at something deep inside me. I can see the effort it takes for him to stay composed, to keep that mask of nonchalance even now.

"Don't thank me yet," I reply, trying to keep my tone light despite the knot in my stomach. I focus on cleaning his wound; it's deeper than I realized, but thankfully it's stopped bleeding for now. The sight of it makes my hands tremble again, but I force myself to stay steady. He needs me to be strong right now.

He watches me work, wincing occasionally but staying mostly silent. His gaze is intense, making me hyper-aware of every move I make. The intimacy of tending to his wounds like this sends a strange thrill through me. I can feel the heat of his eyes on my skin, and it's both comforting and nerve-wracking. Each time he flinches, I want to reach out and soothe him, but I also feel an electric connection growing between us. It's as if this moment is peeling away the layers of our guarded hearts, exposing something raw and real.

"You're good at this," he comments after a while, his voice low and sincere. It draws me in, but I try to focus on the task at hand. His compliment feels too personal, too intimate, and it makes my cheeks warm. I glance up at him, catching the soft admiration in his eyes.

I shrug, focusing on bandaging him up properly. "You pick up a few things when you've been on your own for a while," I reply, keeping my tone casual. My past isn't something I want to delve into right now, not when his wound needs my full attention.

He doesn't press for details, and I'm grateful for that. Raj always seems to know when to push and when to back off. Once I've finished patching him up as best as I can, I sit back on my heels and take a deep breath, trying to calm the adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

"How do you feel?" I ask quietly, my eyes searching for any sign of lingering pain. The dim light casts shadows across his face, and I can't help but notice the way his eyes soften as they meet mine. I wonder if he's aware of how much I care, how much I want to help him, despite the walls I've built around myself.

Raj shifts slightly and winces again, but he nods. "Better than before," he says, his voice a bit strained but reassuring. His warm brown eyes meet mine, and I can see the flicker of pain he's trying to hide. Despite that, there's a hint of his usual confidence, a silent promise that he's tougher than he looks. It makes me feel a little better, knowing that even when he's hurt, he's still the strong, resilient man I've come to rely on.

A wave of relief washes over me at his words, and I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips. "Good," I respond softly, feeling a strange mix of pride and protectiveness. His resilience is something I admire deeply, and it stirs something within me. A fierce desire to shield him from any more pain. I want to be there for him, to offer the same strength and comfort he's given me.

His gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, the world outside this room fades away. There's an unspoken understanding between us, a connection that goes beyond the physical. I can sense his weretiger side, the fierce protector lurking just beneath the surface, and it makes my heart race.