ISABELLE'S POV— 57

When I opened my eyes, I realised it wasn't a dream, and Kyler sat beside me. Tears gathered in my eyes, seeing how much I made him uncomfortable. "W–" I inhale heavily, trying to get up. He offers help, but I brush his hands. I can't put pressure on him.

"Hey, let me help you. Your body is weak," He says, giggling. How can he be laughing right now? Was that funny?

"And you're injured," I say, forcing myself not to cry even though my voice had failed me.

"It's something I am used to. Remember, I go to wars," he says, gently brushing hair strands from my face.

Yeah, I remember it well. I also remember last night. I look at him head to toe, and I recall his fine body covered in blood and the hands he is using to touch me, wrapped in thick blood. I can't help but think about how many lives he had taken with those hands. His face splashes of blood, and I look away, trying to think of something positive.

"You shouldn't have come," He says. He probably could have noticed me staring at his