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“I’m where I’m supposed to be,” I replied before following her inside, ready for whatever lay ahead—as long as we faced it together.
The shadows lengthened, stretching like dark fingers across the forest floor as Arlet and I returned to her cabin. The encounter with the local thugs left a sour taste in my mouth—a reminder of the dangers lurking just beyond the safety of these wooden walls.
As I locked the door behind us, the weight of my promise to protect her pressed down on me. The cabin, once a sanctuary, now stood like a fragile shell—one that I had to fortify.
“I’ll make us some tea,” Arlet said, her voice cutting through the silence that had settled between us. She moved with a grace that belied the tension in her body.
I nodded and watched her fill the kettle. Her resilience astounded me; even now, she kept a steady hand. “You don’t have to keep doing this,” I said finally.
She turned, a small smile gracing her lips. “Doing what?”
“Acting like you’re not scared.”
Arlet’s smile faded, replaced by a contemplative look. “Maybe I am scared,” she admitted, setting the kettle on the stove. “But fear doesn’t get to call the shots—not anymore.”
I admired her for that. Even in the face of fear, she stood unyielding—a quality we shared.
As the kettle whistled, its high-pitched sound seemed to echo my growing unease. The steam rose in ghostly swirls, dissipating into nothing—a stark contrast to the very real threats that refused to vanish so easily.
Arlet poured the water into two mugs and brought them over to where I stood by the window. The warmth from the cup seeped into my hands as I took it from her, a slight comfort against the chill that had nothing to do with the temperature outside.
“Thank you,” I said, our eyes meeting over the steam.
She nodded and took a sip from her own mug before speaking again. “Hayze, what happens next?”
I hesitated. How much should I reveal? How much would only heighten her worry? But Arlet deserved honesty; it was part of the trust we’d built.
“We stay vigilant,” I began. “We make sure you’re not just safe, but prepared for anything they might throw at us.”
She set her mug down and crossed her arms—a shield against vulnerability. “And if they come back?”
I placed my mug beside hers and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Then we stand our ground,” I said firmly. “We’ve already proven we can.”
Arlet’s posture relaxed slightly under my touch. “Together?”
“Always together,” I affirmed.
As night fell and enveloped us in darkness, save for the soft glow of cabin lights, I couldn’t help but feel conflicted about what layahead. The dangers surrounding Arlet were increasing by the day; they were like storm clouds gathering on an otherwise clear horizon.
I knew one thing for certain—I would protect her at all costs. It was more than duty; it was a vow I made not just as her sentinel but as someone who cared about her well-being far beyond any contract’s terms.
Standing there beside Arlet, our reflections mingling in the windowpane against a backdrop of an uncertain world outside, my resolve hardened like steel tempered by fire.
Whatever threats might come charging out of those woods, whatever shadows might seek to engulf this haven we’d carved out—nothing would breach these walls without facing the full fury of Hayze Russel. That was my silent vow as night wrapped around us—an unspoken promise that carried all the weight of my bronze form and steadfast spirit.
CHAPTER 7
Arlet
I tossed and turned in bed. The events of the past few days played in my mind like a movie on repeat. The sound of the wind howling outside didn’t help matters. I tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but it was no use. My thoughts were racing, and I couldn’t shut them off.
The clock on my nightstand read 2:56 a.m., and I had been in bed for hours. I sighed, frustrated with my inability to sleep. My eyes wandered around the room, eventually landing on Hayze. He was on the sofa, his feet hanging off the end. He looked so peaceful, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
I didn’t know why, but I was drawn to him. Maybe it was the protection he provided, or the way he made me feel safe in this unfamiliar place. Whatever it was, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to be closer to him.
Quietly, I slipped out of bed and padded across the room to where Hayze slept. I stood there for a moment, watching him, before gently shaking his shoulder.
“Hayze,” I whispered. “Hayze, wake up.”
