#Chapter 71: Physical

Amelia He was shaking. Not just with rage or adrenaline or whatever poison still clung to his bloodstream, but with something deeper, more primal. A kind of raw vulnerability I had never seen from him, not even at his most wounded. Richard, the unshakable Alpha King, looked like he was barely holding himself together, his pupils wide, his breathing shallow, his hands gripping the sheets like he didn’t know what was real anymore. I touched his chest softly. Just a brush of my palm, but it was enough to make him flinch. His skin was fever-hot, muscles tight beneath the surface, but the second he felt me, something shifted. He exhaled like he hadn’t realized he was holding his breath, the lines in his brow relaxing just slightly under my fingers. He looked at me like I was a lighthouse in a storm. Like he’d forgotten how to steer himself until I walked through the door. “Don’t go,” he whispered, voice cracked and low. “I need you.” His mouth crashed into mine before the last w