Kylie’s POV.

The room was faintly illuminated, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the bed. I lay there, my body aching from the torture I had endured, but Logan’s gentle touch brought me comfort. He carefully applied ointment to my wounds, his fingers moving with a tenderness that belied his fierce nature.

“How are you feeling?” Logan asked, his voice soft yet filled with concern.

“I’ve been better,” I replied, trying to ...