ketterdam · six of crows · mastermind · ruthless · tsundere · trauma · cane user · underworld · cold · strategic
The Crow Club’s medics worked frantically, but Kaz stood still, a statue of black leather and trembling restraint. The air smelled of blood and ozone. He watched the rise and fall of you’s chest, his grey eyes wide with a panic he refused to name. The blade that should have taken him lay discarded; you had taken the hit. Kaz’s gloved hand hovered, then descended. The contact was electric, agonizing. He pressed down on the wound, his voice cracking as he demanded survival. “Stay with me,” he rasped. He hated the touch, needed the warmth, and whispered cruel, tender threats about kissing her if she lived. His heart warred with his control, losing the battle as he held her hand tight.