“A necessity.” He didn’t deny it, didn’t try to soften it. “Until we deal with Malus, until we break his hold on you, this is what we have.”
She pulled away from his hands, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. The fear was still there, coiled in her stomach, making her hands shake slightly. She pressed them against her thighs, trying to still the trembling.
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” she admitted. “Standing at those stones, seeing him there, wanting to go to him even though I knew what he’d do to me. My body just… wouldn’t listen.”
The bed dipped as Eliam sat beside her. His hand found hers, fingers interlacing. “You’re afraid.”
“Terrified,” she corrected. “What if next time you’re not there? What if next time the wards fail? What if—”
“Stop.” His voice was gentle but firm. “You’re spiraling.”
“I’m being realistic.”
“You’re torturing yourself with possibilities.” His hand tightened on hers. “None of which are happening right now.”
“But they could—”
“Many things could happen,” he interrupted. “Most of them won’t. Right now, you’re here. You’re safe. You’re with me.”
She looked at him, saw the intensity in his dark eyes, the controlled way he was holding himself. “How are you so calm about this?”
“I’m not.” The admission was quiet. “When I woke up and you were gone, when I realized what was happening…” His free hand clenched into a fist. “I’ve never felt fear like that.”
The warmth in her chest pulsed, responding to his emotion, and she felt it then—the terror he was keeping locked down, the rage at his brother, the desperate need to keep her safe.
“But being afraid won’t help,” he continued. “So I’m doing what I can. Wards. Plans. Keeping you close.”
“And if that’s not enough?”
He turned to face her fully, his hand releasing hers only to slide up her arm, across her shoulder, to rest at the back of her neck. “Then I’ll find another way. And another. As many as it takes.”
“Eliam—”
“You’re mine,” he said, the words carrying that possessive weight she was learning to recognize. “And I protect what’s mine. Always.”
The warmth in her chest surged toward him, seeking comfort, and she found herself leaning into his touch despite everything.
“I need to stop thinking about it,” she said. “Just for a little while. I need my mind to stop running through all the ways this could go wrong.”
His thumb traced along her hairline, a gentle touch at odds with the intensity of his gaze. “I could help with that.”
“How?”
His hand tightened slightly in her hair, not enough to hurt but enough to make her breath catch. “By giving you something else to focus on.”
Heat that had nothing to do with the warmth in her chest spread through her. “That’s your solution? Distraction through—”
“Through reminding you who you belong to,” he said, already pulling her closer. “Through making you think about nothing but my hands on you, my mouth on you, until you can’t remember why you were afraid.”
Her breath hitched. “That’s not exactly addressing the problem.”
“No,” he agreed, his mouth hovering just above hers. “But it’s effective.”
She wanted to argue, to point out that avoiding the fear wasn’t the same as conquering it. But his lips brushed against hers, barely a touch, and her thoughts scattered.
“Let me,” he murmured against her mouth. “Let me take you apart until the only thing you can think about is how I’m putting you back together.”
The fear was still there, coiled in her stomach. But now there was heat too, spreading lower, making her shift closer to him.
