Chapter 173

Harper's POV

The siren screams overhead, but I barely hear it. I’m on chair beside his bed, leaning over him, one hand holding his while the other moves slowly through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead. His skin is warm, a little clammy, and slick with sweat and blood, but I don’t care. I need to feel him. I need the anchor of his pulse under my palm.

He’s so still.

“Theo,” I whisper, my lips near his ear. “You’re going to be fine. You’re going to wake up and make some awful joke about how dramatic this all was, and I’ll roll my eyes and pretend I’m not relieved. But you will wake up. You have to.”

My voice breaks. I press my forehead to his shoulder for a second, just a moment of weakness, but it doesn’t help. I can’t stop shaking. The blood, his blood, is drying on my legs, flaking at my knees, sticky