His gaze slid slowly over my face like he was memorizing me.
Every expression.
Every emotion.
Every fractured insecure little piece I usually tried hiding from the world.
“You’re afraid,” he said quietly.
I swallowed hard.
“Yes.”
“Of me?”
The question came softer than I expected.
Not offended.
Not angry.
Careful.
And that nearly undid me all over again.
Because someone like Sten could have demanded honesty.
Could have towered over me and forced answers from my mouth through sheer intimidation alone.
Instead, he sounded almost wary.
Like my answer mattered more than he wanted it to.
“No,” I whispered truthfully.
Lightning flashed outside the windows, illuminating the sharp planes of his face in silver-white light.
Something in his expression eased instantly.
Relief.
Gods.
He looked relieved.
“I’m afraid for you,” I admitted before I could stop myself.
Sten went perfectly still.
The silence stretched between us.
Heavy.
Intimate.
Dangerous.
Then slowly—so slowly I almost missed it—his expression changed.
