"Things got real messy real fast back at the cafeteria, huh?" Schneider gave me a wry smile, his eyes repentant.

Was this what he was here to talk about? He was feeling guilty?

There was nothing to feel guilty about; he wasn't the one he publicly assaulted me.

I returned his smile and said, "Don't worry; I won't hold a grudge against you for practically dragging me to the cafeteria."

"Here; a peace offering." He fished out another can of beer from the plastic bag and tossed it at me.

I scrambled to catch it with my right hand. "Hey, injured person over here!"

We both popped our beers open at the same time and took hearty gulps. My eyes watered at the taste; it felt like it had been a decade since the last time I had a beer.

"So, ready for your next tour?"

I choked on the next gulp, hacking coughs raking my body. "What?! No way, man!" There mere thought of leaving my cell and facing Raven again was appalling to me, as embarrassing and aggravating as it was to admit it. The dull ache I felt every time I moved my left arm was still too fresh to go out into a dangerous habitat and risk another injury just yet.

Schneider raised his eyebrows at him in disbelief. "You're just going to rot away in this cell forever like a terrified mouse?"

"Yes! At least it's better than being harassed and attacked every minute of the day! My life expectancy doubles. You wouldn't get it; you being the Prince and all."

A pause. A heavy sigh.

"I told you before and I'm telling you again; get my brother's protection. It's the only way to guarantee your safety."

"I don't want to." Exactly what sort of protection could I expect from a cold-blooded murderer? There was no way in hell that I could trust Schneizel.

"What did you do to get in here anyway?" It was a curious question, but one that jabbed at a festering wound nonetheless.

I hesitated for a moment, afraid of the judgement that had always followed everyone I'd previously told, but then I realized that they could hardly judge me. We were all in the same boat. "Which version do you want? Mine or theirs?"

"Theirs." Came his swift reply.

"I killed a rich man." I took another gulp.

"You usually have to do more than that to end up here. Unless he was a king or something, then that should do it."

"He was a rich man with an even richer, influential family bent on the worst possible revenge."

"Ah. Now, what's your version?"

"It wasn't murder as much as an act of failed heroism," I confessed everything that had happened that night to them. Once I was done, I met Schneider's gaze, expecting the same disbelief and doubt my own family, the police and the court had shown me.

"I like this version better, so I'll believe you."

"That's not how it works!"

"That's how my way works!"

I was suddenly aware of a new dominating presence that dwarfed both Schneider's and Cade's. I looked to the cell's open door to find none other than Schneizel, a backpack in his hand. Our eyes collided and an instant heat skittered down my spine.

"Out," he commanded the two of them, his gaze on me.

Schneider grumbled an inaudible response as he climbed down the upper bunk and left the cell, taking Cade with him.

Schneizel entered the cell and the door slid closed behind him.

My heart started racing.

"How's your arm?" he asked as he came to sit on my bunk, the black backpack by his side.

"It isn't that bad," I told him truthfully, unable to hold eye contact with him for long. Instead I averted my gaze to the ground, but I could still feel his penetrating gaze on me. Why was it that I always felt exposed in front of him like an open book displayed for his amusement?

The memories of what had happened between us only a few hours ago rushed back to me. I was never going to be able to look at ice cubes the same every again.

"Come here."

My eyes snapped to him. I watched him take out what looked like a splint and a sling and lay them on my bunk.

"I consulted a doctor and he suggested a splint for a quicker recovery," Schneizel informed me, still busy extracting other medical items from the backpack.

"Oh." Was all I could manage.

Demurely, I went to sit next to him, careful not to sit on any of the things he had laid out, or too close to him. Where did he get all of these things? Did he raid the infirmary? The fact that he'd gone to the trouble gave me pause.

"Get undressed."

I froze, feeling as if I had just been backhanded across the face. Did I hear him right!? Every dark, unexpected fantasy I'd had about the man tending to my arm came rushing back, stamping a permanent blush on my cheeks. "W-What?" And then I belatedly realized that he meant to remove the bandages and apply the splinter.

I unbuttoned the uniform from the front and reluctantly slid it down until it pooled around my hips. Feeling awkward, I twiddled my thumb until Schneizel was done preparing whatever it was he needed to prepare. Even though we were both grown men, I felt extremely nervous and embarrassed sitting half naked beside him.

When I felt his hand brush my shoulder, I jumped. It might've been my imagination but I could've sworn a corner of his mouth twitched.

Calm down, for fuck's sake!

"Are you alright?" My eyes met his and I saw a knowing glimmer in them that told me he could somehow see through me, sense the fear oozing out of my pores like a hungry tiger cornering a lamb.

I simply jerked my head in response, too afraid my cracking voice would give away telltale signs of my nervousness and trepidation.

Transfixed, I watched him cut the bandages with a pair of scissors he must've smuggled in or something –although I highly suspected the guards in this particular prison didn't care much if the inmates possessed weapons (the only 'weapons' they ever seemed to be interested in was God-given). He then started unraveling the bandages, taking care not to pull too hard. It was obvious that he'd done this before. A lot. I followed the practiced movement of his hands with my eyes as they clipped here, undid there, the veins and cords in his arms popping and the velvety skin of his arms stretching over what could only be described as steeled iron muscle.

Holy shit. No wonder he was able to snap that guard's neck with such frightening ease! I imagined those hands wrapping around my own neck and nearly had a mental breakdown.

"Stay still." I hadn't realized I started fidgeting until the soft order came, stilling me immediately.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

Schneizel uncapped a bottle of odorous ointment and started rubbing it directly on the fracture very gently. Who would've thought someone like him was capable of such gentleness? He rubbed slow circles on a particularly tender area with two fingers and I couldn't help a pained groan that slipped through my lips. His fingers stilled.

"Did I hurt you?" I detected the note of genuine concern in his voice.

Once again, our eyes collided. I was immediately entranced by the darkening of his sapphire eyes to a dark blue color that reminded me of the night sky. If I was being completely honest with myself, I had to admit that he was a handsome man.

"I-It's fine."

His fingers resumed their massaging motion but his eyes remained glued to mine, holding me hostage, so to speak. Shivers slithered up and down my spine and raked my body for reasons I was reluctant to contemplate.

When holding his gaze became too much, I returned to looking at him work professionally and watching his callused long fingers glide over the skin of my wrist, up my arm and to my shoulder. But I could still feel his eyes on my face, burning holes.

Schneizel did quick work of applying the splint and then dangled the sling from his crooked finger in front of my face.

"I'd rather not use the sling if the splint is enough," I confessed with a wry smile. "I was told not to show signs of weakness here."

"You're under my protection now. You needn't be concerned about such things so long as you belong to me."

I gaped. "What?!