Reaper woke to a scalding, burning, penetrating heat.

He tried to lift his head, but a vicious dizziness sent him falling right back down. The events leading up to his situation were blurry—a haze of jumbled bodies and aggression—and yet one particular face remained at the forefront of his mind.

Caroline.

She was the one constant in the melee of his mind.

Alarm sent his heart into overdrive. Where was she?

His muscles reflexively cinched as he tried to sit up again, only to fall flat on his back. Weakness overtook him as the dizziness returned. He started to tremble, going from hot to cold, his shoulder burning.

He struggled to peel his eyes open again, then glanced down without lifting his head and saw Caroline’s shiny blonde hair resting on his good shoulder. Her face was turned up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her clear skin and perfectly lush mouth. She looked like a sleeping angel.

All he wanted to do was hold her against him forever. Even though she only reached his lower sternum, she fit him like a missing piece of a puzzle.

One of her arms was stretched overhead, resting on the base of his .308 rifle, and the other lay flat on his chest. A smile tugged at his lips.

His angel was a warrior princess.

Try as he might, he couldn’t imagine her wielding a large semi-automatic rifle, but for some reason he had no doubt she’d try if anyone threatened them.

Had she been guarding him while he slept? There were white strips of bandage covering his other shoulder, but he couldn’t remember how or why they were there. He remembered hoofing it down the hall in the lab with Caroline slung over his shoulder . . . and then nothing.

God, he was so tired. A flash of heat burned through his body and he fought the urge to throw Caroline off in search of cooler air. But just as quickly, the heat disappeared and cold seeped into his bones. Fever. He had a fever. It had something to do with Caroline and the wound and . . . his men. Why wasn’t his team here? They’d rarely left one another after their escape from the lab.

He caught sight of her discarded hospital gown in the far corner, covered in blood and dirt.

The nurse with the scars—she’d helped them. She’d stitched up his shoulder.

Fuck, why couldn’t he get his brain under control? Snatches of blurry images that made no sense revolved in a constant whirl in his mind, but nothing fit together. The girl sleeping on his chest was his only constant. His compass.

He had to keep her safe and protect her at all costs, even if it meant his life.

Weariness tugged at his entire being. He needed more rest. His body would heal quickly, faster than most, if he could

---

Reaper’s violent shivering woke Caroline with a start. His teeth clattered together like tiny gunshots and his previously flushed skin was now pale and dripping with sweat.

Panic gripped her, and it set in deep when she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead, only to find it tepid. His robe was soaked; so was hers where she’d been touching him.

What did it mean?

Why wasn’t he hot anymore?

She scrambled off the bed and yanked open his medical kit, frantically searching for . . . She had no idea what she was searching for. All she knew was that something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

“Quantum—team—serum,” Reaper mumbled almost incoherently in his sleep.

The serum? Did he need another dose? That was it; that had to be what he needed. Maybe it was some kind of high-powered, steroid-infused medicine given to military men to take into the field if they were severely injured. He had calmed down after she’d dosed him with it earlier.

Decision made, she unzipped the small flat pouch and pulled out another needle. Reaper flopped and jerked on the bed, tossing his head from side to side. If she tried to give him a shot in this state, she’d end up stabbing his side or something useless and wasting the meds. She needed a way to hold him down, but her puny weight wouldn’t be enough to fasten a single leg in place, let alone his entire body.

She was about as likely to find rope in this dump as she was to find a pot of gold. Still, she needed something. She shot to her feet and her toes instantly tripped on the overly long hemline of her robe. An idea sparked, and she snatched up Reaper’s knife and began slicing away long strips around her hemline. When she’d cut it to her knees, she had enough material to wrap around him twice.

Makeshift rope in hand, Caroline went to his side. His skin had turned even whiter in the few moments since she’d left the bed, and his mumbling had taken on a hysterical pitch. She couldn’t afford to have him re-open the wound. Caroline straddled his hips and he attempted to shove her to the floor, but she grabbed the edges of the makeshift cot. As soon as he settled down, she wound the material over his elbow, beneath the cot, and back up twice, tying a double knot.

Reaper’s struggles turned frantic, like the bindings had triggered some dormant instinct to escape. She threw herself down in desperation, grabbed the sides of the cot for support, and tried to use as much of her body weight as possible to keep him still.

“Reaper, it’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” He eased up a little. Encouraged, she continued, “That’s good. I need you to be still now, to rest and get your strength. I’m not going anywhere.”

The sound of her voice seemed to calm him, so she kept talking, not really knowing what to say. “You’ve been so brave and so strong for both of us. I need you to get well again, and the only way you can do that is to rest. Just rest.”

She soothed a hand over his forehead and cheeks, trying to comfort him with her touch. It seemed to work. He turned his face into her palm, his vulnerability entrenching him even more deeply in her heart.

At times he acted cold and distant and almost mean, but that was a front—the hardened persona he put forward as a soldier. As a man who’d learned to bury his hurts and emotions deep down. It was probably what had kept him alive all these years. He needed that. He needed his rough exterior—but he also needed her.

Her heart filled up with warm sunshine. She wasn’t leaving his side unless he made her.

She slid out from beneath the bed and grabbed the needle, injecting the serum into his vein before he could throw up a fuss again. Then she closed the pack and tucked it beneath the cot before climbing back into bed with Reaper, trying to give him as much of her body as she could.