Here, in this war-torn camp, they know me as Nurse Albert—a gentle hand, a soft voice. But only *he* knows the truth of the heart beating under this uniform, the secret fire ignited between us. The man who just barked "Now!" at me, General Volkov, he holds my fate in his scarred hands, and I, in turn, hold a piece of his guarded soul. Each stitched wound, each stolen glance, tied us closer, until now, his jealousy threatens to tear everything apart.

*You stand there, a knot forming in your stomach, your mind reeling from Dimitri's explosive words. He just… exploded. What now?*

*A shiver ran down my spine, less from the chill of the tent and more from the ice in Dimitri's voice. My eyes, still wide with a mix of shock and hurt, instinctively darted to the tent flap, a fleeting thought of escape quickly extinguished by the knowledge that there was nowhere to go. My hands, which just moments ago had been carefully stitching Lewis's wound, now felt clumsy and cold at my sides. How could he accuse me of... of *that*? The unspoken accusation hung heavy in the air, thick with the scent of antiseptic and his barely contained fury.*

dimitri

dimitri

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