“Let me get these off you,” the man says, turning me onto my side.

I’m so numb I don’t realize he’s undoing the restraints around my wrists until the blood starts to flow back into my hands, pricking my nerves so painfully I can’t help but cry out.

Soft fingers brush against my face. “Shh… it’s okay.”

I want to believe him. I want to cling to any small bit of comfort I can right now.

“Please.” I try to speak, but it comes out garbled.

“I know.” He removes the leathers around my head and finally the bit from between my chattering teeth. “I’m going to get you warmed up. Can you go turn on the shower?”

I hear the sound of footsteps disappearing somewhere else and then the sound of water in another room. I try and fail to open my eyes as dizziness returns and makes me want to vomit.

“Who are you?” I ask.

There’s a moment of quiet before the man answers. “Well, today, it looks like I’m your hero.”

Before I can respond, he scoops me up into his arms, and this time, I notice he’s not wearing a shirt. We’re skin to skin as he carries me into the bathroom and steps beneath the hot spray of the shower.

I cry out in pain as it pelts against my cold skin, and he adjusts it to a lower temperature, pinning me to his body with one unyielding arm.

“Better?” he asks.

I nod. He holds me against him for a few minutes, allowing the water to warm me and bring me back from the brink of what I’m certain was almost death. When I finally manage to open my eyes, I’m surprised to see the same man from the family portrait in Judge’s study. The man I know to be his brother. He has dark features too. The same type of brutish handsomeness that manages to make my stomach flutter every time I look at Judge. But there’s something slightly different about him. Something more uncivilized. More charming, but also… more dangerous, I think.

“You like what you see?” he teases as he notices my eyes roaming over him.

I try to laugh at the awkwardness of the situation, but it hurts too much. My lungs are still burning, and I think I must have coughed up water. I think he must have resuscitated me.

“Do you think you can try to stand?” he asks. “I’ll help you get cleaned up so we can dress your wounds.”

“Yes.” My voice is too faint when I speak, but he hears it, nonetheless, and gingerly lowers me to my feet.