“That simple?”
“That simple.”
He exhaled slowly, gently stroking her hair. The gesture seemed almost unconscious, as if he were soothing himself as much as her.
“May I stay,” he whispered. “Please. I know I should leave and give you space to rest properly. But?—”
“Stay,” she said immediately. She settled back against his chest, letting her eyes drift closed. “I’ll sleep better with you here anyway.”
His arms tightened around her. “So will I.”
CHAPTER 17
Victor woke with Chloe’s heartbeat steady against his side. He was still on her couch, sprawled across the cushions with her tucked against his side. Dawn light filtered through the curtains, painting everything gold and soft and deceptively peaceful. His hand, still slightly enlarged, rested on her belly, his palm spread wide.
Fuck.
He carefully extracted himself from her warmth, moving as deliberately as if he were defusing a bomb. She shifted but didn’t wake, turning into the space he’d vacated with a small contented sound. He stood looking down at her—hair mussed, lips slightly parted, one hand cradling her bump even in sleep.
Beautiful. Perfect. Vulnerable.
And he’d lost control with her last night. His stomach turned as the memories crashed back. Hyde emerging not in violence but in desire. Those enormous hands touching her, holding her. Long clawed fingers spanning the curve where their—whereher—baby grew.
He’d been on the verge of taking her and what if that had caused Hyde to take full control? What if he’d shifted completely? The vision of her delicate frame crushed beneath Hyde’s mass suddenly filled his mind, her small bones breaking like kindling. And the baby?—
He barely made it to her bathroom before he was sick. He knelt on the cold tile, forehead pressed against the porcelain, and tried to breathe through the panic clawing up his throat.
Monster. I’m a monster. Just like my father.
But his father had never felt this. He’d never experienced Hyde’s presence as anything but rage and destruction. But Victor had felt contentment last night, Hyde settling into something that felt almost like peace, and somehow that was worse because it meant Hyde wanted this. He wanted to be close and involved and part of their lives. And Victor knew with bone-deep certainty that want would be their destruction.
He cleaned himself up mechanically and splashed cold water on his face. His reflection stared back from the mirror—his eyes bloodshot and his jaw tight, the faint green tinge that meant Hyde was still too close to the surface. Hyde was always too close now, and he had been since Chloe arrived.
He dried his face and returned to the living room. She was still sleeping, curled on her side with both hands protecting her belly now as if she were shielding the baby—shielding the baby from threats like him. He needed to leave. He should have left hours ago, before dawn made everything harder.
But he found himself moving to the couch instead, crouching beside where she slept. Just one more moment. One last timeletting himself imagine this was his—that she was his—before he destroyed it.
Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled before she was fully awake, that soft unguarded expression that made his chest ache.
“Morning.” Her voice was sleep-rough. “You stayed.”
“I shouldn’t have.” He managed to keep his tone neutral, clinical. “You needed a proper rest. A couch isn’t appropriate for someone in your condition.”
She blinked, coming more awake, and her smile faded as she registered his carefully blank expression. “Victor? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m simply clarifying the situation.”
“The situation.” She pushed herself upright, her movements awkward with her belly in the way. “What situation?”
“Last night was a mistake.” Each word felt like swallowing glass. “I lost control and put you at risk. It can’t happen again.”
She stared at him. “You didn’t lose control. You were right there. Present and gentle and?—”
“I was transforming.” He stood, needing distance. “At least half of me was Hyde, and if I’d shifted completely?—”
“You wouldn’t have hurt me.”
“You can’t know that.”
