I wake with a start at the sound of the door opening. Quickly, I sit up, then wince as pain from my injuries shoots through me.

Marcus walks into the apartment, his eyes finding mine immediately.

"You're meant to be in bed," he says.

"You were only meant to be gone for an hour," I reply, forcing on a smile. He chuckles and closes the door behind him before throwing his keys in a little silver bowl on the counter and then taking off his blazer.

The white shirt beneath fits him perfectly. It's tight enough that you can see the shape of his muscles beneath, but not too tight that it stretches awkwardly over him. He takes off his tie and unbuttons the top two buttons on his shirt.

Fuck, he looks good.

I want to hit myself as soon as that thought enters my head.

Stop it, Rowan. He's the enemy.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Very sore," I reply.

"Mentally?"

I sigh. "It hit whilst you were out," I say, not exactly lying. The realisation had slammed into me whilst he was gone. It just had nothing do to with the Clarkie situation and more to do with Marcus himself.

Marcus sighs and walks toward me. I let tears gather in my eyes and when I next speak, my voice wobbles.

"Clarkie tried to kill me," I whisper.

Marcus sits on the arm of the sofa, his expression worried.

"He did. But he's gone now. He can't hurt you any more."

I nod my head and gulp, wiping my eyes before I can cry.

"Perhaps I should arrange for you to talk to someone about your trauma," he states.

"No, no," I say, shaking my head.

"Therapy is a helpful tool that can aid your recovery," he pushes.

"I don't want to, Marcus," I sigh. "At least, not yet."

"Ivy, a man tried to murder you last night. You were beaten and left permanently scarred..." he trails off as he sees more tears gather in my eyes.

"Marcus," I whisper. "I have my own way of dealing with traumas. Please, just let me figure this all out myself and process everything before we start talking about possible therapy."

"Ivy," he sighs.

"Marcus," I interrupt. "I can deal with this. This is the very thing you were testing me for in the interviews – which I know I passed with flying colours. I'm going to be fine."

He doesn't look convinced, but he drops the subject.

"I have something I wish to discuss with you," he finally says, standing up. My heart leaps into my throat in a moment of panic.

He's figured you out.

I force myself to calm down as I realise that is a ridiculous thought. If he'd figured me out, I'd be rotting in an unnamed location, beaten and tortured.

"What?" I ask and groan as I shift on the sofa, agitating more of my wounds.

"I'll make some dinner first, we can discuss it after."

"You don't have to do all of this, you know," I say.

"Do all of what?" he asks.

"Babysit me. I'll be fine at home."

"I want to do this," he tells me. "I want to look after you and help you get better."

I can't help but smile. "Thank you," I say.

He smiles back and walks over to the kitchen. "I've arranged for the doctor to come back tomorrow to check up on you," he tells me. "She's bringing these special patches that help bruises and cuts heal quicker."

I raise my eyebrows. "That sounds like magic," I laugh.

"Not magic, science. Highly classified and experimental science."

"And your doctor friend has access to them?" I ask.

He laughs. "Perks of having friends in high places," he says with a wink. "Anyway, chicken or fish?"

"Chicken."

"Great."

I watch as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. My heart flutters again. How can such a small gesture be so sexy?

"Are you alright there?" he asks, raising a brow at me.

"Yep," I reply, smiling. He rolls his eyes and puts the pan on the stove before he preps the chicken. There is silence for a few moments and I contemplate asking a question.

"What's on your mind?" he asks as he looks up at me.

"You didn't answer my question earlier," I say, my voice a whisper. "What are you?"

If he's taken aback by my question, he doesn't show it. Instead, he continues to cook calmly, laying the chicken breast into the sizzling pan.

"Each Realm has some sort of magic," he begins. "You remember I told you about the dream walkers and skin changers of the second realm?"

I nod my head.

"Well, this realm also has magic. There are Seers, people who can see snippets of the future, and then there are people like me. We are known as Shadow Crawlers."

My heart skips a beat as he says it out loud.

"What does that mean?" I ask. He looks up from the pan.

"It means, I can turn my body into shadows."

My eyes widen and I remember watching the video of him in action. A chill spreads down my spine.

"And whilst in my shadow form, I can also teleport. Only small distances, but enough to take an enemy by surprise."

"Wow," I whisper. "That's..."

"It's a lot to take in," he says. "I understand."

I nod my head and lean back on the sofa, pretending I'm stunned by this information. Pretending I didn't know exactly what he is already.

We fall back into silence once more and I listen to the sounds of him cooking. After about ten minutes, he walks over with a chicken pasta dish. The smells of garlic and tomatoes make my stomach growl.

"Thank you," I say, taking the bowl as he hands it to me.

He sits down next to me and reaches for the remote, turning on the TV. I can't help but laugh.

"What?" he asks.

"I didn't take you for a television watcher."

"What do you think I do in my free time?" he asks, amused.

"I don't know, more work. Exercise. Read."

"You're mostly right I suppose," he sighs and quickly turns the channel over as the news shows images of flooding and storms that are currently happening on the East Coast. I try to avoid even thinking about it. What's happening to this realm isn't my problem. Though as I think that, guilt gnaws at me. I do have sympathy for the people who suffer as this world dies. I really do. But their answer shouldn't be destroying my home and that I have to stop. No matter what.

I shudder and try to distract myself, instead focusing on my dinner. The pasta is delicious. I nearly moan as I take a bite. We eat in silence. Although I look like I'm paying attention, my mind drifts as I think about my next steps and how I'm going to further exploit this relationship with Marcus.

When I finish, I attempt to stand.

"Ivy," Marcus says, practically snatching the plate from my hands.

"Marcus, you fought a man, rescued me, helped patch me up, let me stay in your flat and cooked for me. The least I could do is a little bit of washing up."

"When you're more healed, maybe. But all the time you have broken ribs, you're resting," he tells me and moves to the kitchen before I can argue.

I sigh and watch the show as he works. It doesn't take him long and soon, he's back on the sofa with me. He switches off the TV and turns to face me.

"It's time to talk," he says.

"Okay," I say, frowning.

"I had a chat with the commander today," he begins.

"About?" I ask curiously.

"You."

My eyes widen and I open my mouth, ready to question him. Marcus holds up his hand, stopping me.

"Give me a moment to explain," he chuckles.

"Sorry," I say.

"You're valuable, Ivy. Not only did you do exceptionally well in the interview, but you read and speak Athainian and right now, that is a skill we desperately need."

My heart starts to race excitedly, wondering if I know where this is going.

"Now, I can understand if, after what's happened to you, you aren't ready to enter my world. But we would like to offer you a job."

My mouth nearly drops open in shock. Marcus laughs.

"What?" I stammer breathlessly.

"We need more translators and more people with minds like yours. People working for us, who don't have connections with politicians like Mr Salt and his friends. Loyal people."

My stomach twists at the last sentence, but I don't let that show on my face.

"What's the job exactly?" I ask.

"You would be my personal translator and an assistant investigator in my department. You would be employed by the commander himself. He will be your direct boss. But you'll be working alongside me and my team. It will be a secretive employment so that Mr Salt doesn't catch on."

"That's amazing," I say, tears forming in my eyes.

"So, you're up for it?" he asks.

I nod my head quickly and he laughs. "I'm warning you, Ivy, it's going to be a lot of work. There is a ton of training you need to do before you even begin and there will be a lot more security precautions. There will be a lot more hours. You'll need to quit your job at the restaurant."

"Done," I say quickly.

"It's dangerous," he says, looking into my eyes. "We will be hunting down and investigating extremely powerful people. You will become a target to our enemies in this realm and others. You won't fully be safe once you take this job."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," I tell him.

He chuckles. "I knew you would say that."

I can't help but smile. In fact, it is so wide, that my cheeks begin to hurt. "Work like this is what I've wanted to do, Marcus. It's what I went to University for and trained so hard for. It's the reason why I learned Athainian."

"I'm glad you're happy," he says.

"I am, thank you so much."

I want to hug him. I resist the urge. But looking at his wide smile and his sparkling eyes makes me want to reach over and melt into his arms.

"Like I said, you have lots of training to do first."

"Like what?" I ask.

"Where to start?" he mutters. "Everything from new security measures to confidential data handling, to classes on basic health and safety."

"When do I start?"

"Luckily, the training is virtual. So, if you aren't feeling too out of it, I can set you up on my laptop to do it whilst I'm at work tomorrow. If you aren't ready, it can wait until you've healed."

"No, I'll do it," I say quickly. "It will make the day go by quicker."

"Okay," he says. "Then, after you're healed, I'm going to start combat training you, just so you can hold your own if we ever have to go out into the field."

"Wow," I whisper.

"That won't be for a few more weeks and we'll do that alongside you starting the new job," he explains.

"This is so exciting," I say, giddy.

"It is," he agrees. "I'm glad you feel that way."

"Thank you so, so much."

"You earned it," he tells me. I can't stop smiling. This is it. This is the in I need.

"Now," Marcus says, "you need more rest and I need to sleep too. We can talk about this more tomorrow."

"Okay," I say, still excited.

"Have you had a chance to shower yet?"

"I didn't know what towels and stuff to use," I reply sheepishly. He laughs and stands up. He disappears into another room and comes back with some fresh towels, some women's pyjamas, and some clean underwear, still in their packet.

"Marcus, do you just happen to keep women's clothing in your flat? Do you have a partner whose space I'm encroaching on?" I ask.

He laughs and puts them down on the sofa. "No, there is no partner. I had my friend run and get them yesterday when I told her I'd be looking after you for a few days," he says. "Now, go shower, then rest. You can take the bed."

"Is there another bed in the flat?" I ask.

"I can sleep on the sofa, it's fine," he assures me.

"Marcus, this is your place. I can't take your bedroom. Let me sleep on the sofa."

"It's fine, Ivy," he says, "trust me, I've slept in worse places."

So have I.

I frown. "Okay, but Marcus, I can't be here too long. I really appreciate you looking after me, but I want to heal in the comfort of my own home."

"I understand," he says softly. "Let the doctor come tomorrow and work her magic. Then, the day after that, if you're healed enough where you can do simple tasks without wincing in pain, you can go home."

"Okay," I agree. He helps me stand, his hand snaking around my waist. I lean into him and for a second, we pause. I look up at him, meeting his eyes. He smiles softly and everything else around me fades.

I look away quickly as heat begins to build in my cheeks. Marcus chuckles and helps me walk slowly to the bathroom.

"You know, for such a fancy place, it seems odd that you don't have a spare bedroom?" I say, trying to break the tension.

"It's a small, fancy place," he laughs.

"Small?" I squawk, looking back at the huge open kitchen living room space we were just in.

He laughs a little harder. "I live on my own, Ivy. I don't need multiple rooms. I just need my bedroom and my office. Which, by the way, has highly confidential information in. So it's locked and it's the one room in this flat that you aren't allowed in," he warns.

"Got it," I say.

***

The following day passes quickly. The doctor arrives and checks my wounds before applying the pads, which I am instructed to leave on all day. Marcus leaves not long after and I spend the day going over all the new training sessions on his laptop. It is intense and thorough, but interesting enough to keep me entertained and to make time pass quickly.

I contemplate breaking into Marcus' office, but decide against it, not knowing what sort of security he has in there.

By the end of the night, once the special healing pads are finally taken off, my aches and pains are miles better. I can hardly believe it. Even the bruises look better.

The following day, Marcus lets me go home. It's a relief to get back in my space and talk to Connor about everything. He tells me how stupid and dangerous my plan was, but congratulates me on a job well done.

Over the next week, I continue to work on all the virtual training lessons. Marcus messages me every day asking how I am and even visits a couple of times where I repay the favour and cook him some meals.

Spending time with him is so effortlessly easy. He makes the whole world disappear. I love the way he smiles and laughs at my stupid comments. I love the way he encourages me and compliments my work. I thought that he and I being so close in my flat, my safe place, would be awkward, or scary. But it isn't. It's the opposite. It feels strangely lonely when he's not here and every time he leaves at night, I almost want to ask him to stay.

One week after the attack, my body pretty much feels as good as new. Marcus still demands I take another week off before I start properly, which I don't mind as the commander sent yet more online training for me to complete. Plus, it means more days Marcus can visit.

Finally, two weeks after the attack, I am cleared to start working my new job. I go into my old office one final time to say goodbye to everyone.

Leo gives me all the gossip about what happened at Serena's leaving party I had missed, which consisted of her mostly bragging about getting the job and talking about how much she deserved it over me. That doesn't surprise me.

He then makes me promise to stay in touch, which I'm happy to do. I receive hugs and congratulations from the others I was close to. Serena's friends continue to whisper at each other, giggling like school girls, and trying to make up rumours that I've been fired.

None of them know where I'm going. It's confidential. But when asked, I make sure to smile proudly and give them little hints that my new job was a very good one and was offered to me because of how well I did in the interview.

Too soon, I'm leaving. My chest aches a little as I walk out of those doors for a final time, leaving behind some of the only friends I've made in this Realm. I push those feelings aside.

What's ahead is so much better. So much more exciting. So much more dangerous.

And I can't wait.