“No,” she whispers again.
I cross the room.
“Kaia.”
She does not wake.
I sit on the edge of the mattress and touch her shoulder carefully.
“Kaia.”
Her face tightens.
“Wake up, sweetheart.”
The word leaves me before I can stop it.
Her eyes fly open.
For one second, she does not see me. She is still somewhere else.
Then her gaze finds mine.
“Zain.”
“I’m here.”
She throws herself at me.
I catch her on instinct.
Her arms lock around my neck so fast I barely have time to shift before she is pressed against my chest, shaking hard enough that I feel it through both our clothes.
“I’m here,” I say again, moving one hand over her back.
She buries her face against my neck.
“I’m here. I’ve got you.”
Her fingers twist into my skin.
I hold her tighter.
There is nothing sexual about this, and there should not be.
She is frightened, half asleep, still trapped somewhere between this room and a house filling with smoke.
So I keep one hand at the back of her head and the other around her waist, holding her until her breathing begins to slow.
“That’s it,” I murmur. “Breathe.”
She takes one unsteady breath, then another, and her body softens by degrees.
I should let go.
I do not.
Neither does she.
