Chapter 23 · Dangerous Tenderness

"Stop moving or I'll let the wound reopen," Nora snapped, her voice tight.

She had Sera pinned against the edge of the mahogany vanity, one hand gripping Sera's shoulder hard enough to leave a mark, the other pressing a blood-soaked cloth into the jagged cut on Sera's side. The room was dim, lit only by the flickering glow of a few salt lamps that cast long, dancing shadows against the walls.

"I can do it myself," Sera hissed, trying to jerk away. "I don't need the Golden Girl playing nurse."

"You're bleeding through your shirt, Sera. Be a martyr somewhere else," Nora retorted. She didn't let go. Instead, she stepped closer, the silk of her robe brushing against Sera's rough tactical pants. The scent of expensive vanilla and something sharp—like ozone before a storm—filled the small space between them.

Sera glared up at her, chest heaving. "What is this? A pity party? You're the one who got us into this mess."

"I'm the one who got us *out*," Nora corrected. She leaned in, her face inches from Sera's. The power dynamic shifted in a heartbeat; Nora wasn't the polished icon of Solis right now.