Startled, she glanced down—and froze.
Veer's hand was clamped firmly around her wrist. His grip wasn't weak or trembling like one would expect from a sick man; it was strong, steady… almost possessive.
Her brows drew together. Did he wake up?
Leaning closer, she whispered, "What? You want something?"
But Veer's eyes remained closed. His breathing was slow and even, completely unchanged, the steady rhythm of someone deep in sleep. He wasn't awake. He hadn't heard her.
Kaya looked back at her wrist, her expression shifting into disbelief. He's still asleep… then why…
It might have been a reflex, she reasoned. His body clinging to something warm without knowing. That had to be it.
Resolute, she tried to pry his fingers away one by one. But as soon as she pulled at his hand, she realized just how tightly he was holding her. His grip was like iron. No matter how much she tugged, she couldn't move a single finger away from her wrist.
