She cried for a long time.He held her through every tremor, taking it all.His fingers kept a slow circuit through her tangled curls, thumb brushing the curve of her ear.She was so light.
The crying tapered.Not all at once, but in stages… sobs became hiccups, hiccups became shudders, shudders became stillness as her breathing evened out.Her fingers uncurled against his chest, then tightened again as if she'd caught herself letting go and corrected.
He pressed his lips to the top of her head.Tasted salt and the faint sweetness of whatever product she used in her hair.Underneath it, the scent that was just her… warm skin and something floral he couldn't name, the one that had been driving him slowly insane since he’d met her.
"Stay," she said.Barely a word.More of an exhale shaped around a word.
"I'm not going anywhere."
She relaxed against him.The tension drained from her body slowly, muscle by muscle.Shifting his weight, he eased them both down until he was on his back.She settled against his bare skin, and her palm came to rest over his heart.He covered it with his own.
She was safe.She was his.
He didn't fight himself on it.Not tonight.
* * *
She woketo the sound of Raaevik's heartbeat.
It was slow and steady.The deep, even thud of a man who trusted the dark enough to sleep in it.His arm was heavy across her waist, pinning her against the solid wall of his chest, and the warmth of him seeped through the thin fabric of her dress.
For a moment, she let herself have it.
She lay perfectly still, breathing him in.Leather and the scent of clean, warm man, along with that note that was uniquely him.The one that she’d started to associate with safety.His chin rested on the top of her head, his breath stirring her hair.Every so often, his arm tightened fractionally, an unconscious reflex, pulling her closer even in sleep.
Like he was afraid she’d disappear.
Pressing her lips together, she looked across the room.The status lights on the wall panels glowed faintly amber.It was still early morning, and everything was quiet.
She tilted her head back, careful not to shift too much, and looked at his face.
Oh, god.
Asleep, Raaevik looked...Younger and the effect was devastating.The lines between his brows had smoothed.His lips were slightly parted, his lashes dark against his cheeks.The long blond hair had come loose from its braids during the night and fell across his face in pale tangles.
He looked peaceful.
Her throat ached.This.This was what she was saving.
Not herself, not her freedom, buthim.This man who had walked through her door because he couldn’t stand the sound of her crying.Who had held her all night without asking for anything.Who would die, actually, literally die, if anyone found out what he’d done.
What they’d done.
They would kill him.And Raaevik would let them, because that’s who he was.He’d kneel and accept the blade and call it justice.
Over her cold, dead body.
She had two choices.Stay in his arms and wait for them both to burn, or cut herself free and give him a chance to survive.
It wasn’t even a choice.
But if she vanished, Raaevik became a failure, not a traitor.He would be the guard who lost his charge.Shamed, maybe demoted, but alive.Alive to hate her for running.
She started to move.Slowly.Centimeter by centimeter, she eased sideways, sliding her hip out from under the weight of his arm.His hand twitched, and she froze, her heart slamming against her ribs.
He murmured something.Low and rough.Not words.Just sound.His arm shifted, fingers spreading across the sheets where she’d been.
She held her breath so long her vision started to spot.
