He pressed me against the closing door with a resounding thud. A fresh scent filled my nose.

I looked up in alarm, and his perfect face was inches from mine. "Let me see where you're hurt."

"What do you think you're doing? You're putting me in an awkward position!"

"Where are you hurt?" He insisted, completely disregarding what I had just said.

I reluctantly brushed the hair from my forehead, revealing the wound. He frowned, and then his eyes turned ominously cold. I had never seen him like this before.

I quickly let my hair fall back to cover the wound and feebly said, "It's nothing!"

His tone turned icy as he said, "Are you out of your mind? You’re saying a wound this size is nothing? Are you a masochist?"

I shot him an incredulous glare but felt an unfathomable sorrow in me.

Atlas narrowed his eyes, his voice softening slightly. "Why didn't you call me?"

I turned my face slightly away, a touch petulant. "I'm a married woman. What would it mean if I kept calling you? I didn