“Not a person,” I said quickly. “It’s your cat.”
She blinked. “Muffin?!”
The cat meowed like he’d been deeply offended by the accusation.
Nora sagged against the doorframe. “I forgot he was in the laundry room. I thought he was outside.”
Muffin flicked his tail.
Then knocked a spoon off the counter just to prove he was still in charge.
I rubbed a hand over my face. Trigger was never going to let me live this down.
I turned back to Nora.
She was pale. Shaking. Her breathing uneven.
Fear didn’t just vanish because the threat wasn’t real.
Her body had been preparing for survival.
I walked toward her slowly.
Carefully.
Not wanting to startle her.
“Nora,” I murmured.
She looked up. And the moment her eyes met mine, all that fear cracked something in me.
I holstered my weapon and reached for her face, cupping her cheeks gently.
“You’re okay,” I whispered. “I’ve got you.”
Her voice was a shaky whisper. “I thought he got inside.”
“So did I,” I admitted. “But he didn’t. You’re safe.”
A tear slid down her cheek—silent, quick. She wiped it, embarrassed.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “Adrenaline.”
“Don’t apologize for being scared. You handled it exactly right.”
She breathed in, shaky and soft. “Wolf?”
“Yeah?”
“Stay with me. Please.”
I brushed a thumb along her cheekbone.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Back in theBedroom
I guided her inside, closing the door—not to shut the world out, but to give her space to feel something other than fear.
