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Luke stays on the floor, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, eyes wide with shock and fear.

I button my jacket and turn toward the door.

“Consider this your only warning.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rosie

I’m drowning.

The water is everywhere, swallowing me whole. My head is forced under, held down by a grip so tight I can’t break free. My lungs burn, screaming for air, but every time I try to push up, the pressure on the back of my neck increases, shoving me deeper.

I kick. I thrash. I claw at the hands holding me down.

Nothing works. I can’t breathe. I need air. My vision blurs as the water fills my ears, muffling everything, turning the world into a dull, suffocating roar.

Then I hear my name. It’s faint, distant.

“Rosie…”

Laughter follows. Girls’ voices. They’re laughing at me.

The sound echoes through the water, warped and distorted, wrapping around my head. I struggle harder, my chest convulsing, my body shaking with the desperate need to breathe.

Strong hands suddenly grip my shoulders, and the pressure on my neck disappears.

I’m yanked upward, bursting through the surface, air crashing into my lungs in a violent rush, and then I’m being pulled into solid arms.

“Shh… you’re alright,” a deep voice murmurs close to my ear. “I’ve got you.”

A familiar scent fills my senses, clean, masculine, unmistakably him, and my body begins to recognize where I am, who is holding me. The panic loosens its grip, little by little, as reality pushes the nightmare away.

My eyes fly open. “Andrei,” I whisper, my voice shaky.

“Yes, baby,” he answers immediately, his hand moving slowly up and down my back. “You were having a nightmare.”

His voice is low, steady, grounding me.

Embarrassment hits me almost instantly. Most times when I have these nightmares, I’m alone. Mabel is the only person who has ever seen me like this. Seen the screaming, the panic, the way I fall apart in my sleep.

It’s humiliating. I hate that he just witnessed it.

Andrei keeps whispering soft words against my hair, his tone calm and patient.

“You’re safe,” he murmurs.

“I’m here. Nothing is going to hurt you.”

Gradually, my breathing slows. The tightness in my chest eases. My trembling fades, my body relaxing against him.

After a while, I gently pull away from his embrace. His arms loosen reluctantly, like he doesn’t want to let me go.

The room is still dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting long shadows across the walls. The quiet feels fragile, like it could shatter if either of us speaks too loudly.

I avoid his gaze, staring down at the blankets.

“Sorry,” I murmur. “I woke you.”