Xavier’s hands covered mine, guiding. Helping me into the jacket. Pulling it tight. His features were clearer now. Focused, alert, nothing like the dying man I’d watched convulse minutes ago.
“Can you run?” His voice was close to me. I could see those green eyes now, dark even in the dim light, tracking my expression with the same intensity he’d used while seizing. Every bit of the performance gone.
I forced strength I didn’t feel. “Yes.”
“That’s my girl.”
Then we were moving. Xavier pulling me forward. Hellhound somewhere ahead, weapon ready, form a dark shadow against darker surroundings.
Shouts behind us. Flashlight beams cutting through the darkness, stabbing into the night behind us, sweeping the area we’d just left.
But we were already gone.
Into the vehicle. Doors slamming. Engine roaring.
We peeled away from the facility with enough force to throw me against Xavier’s chest.
His arms locked around me immediately, pulling me closer. One hand cradled the back of my head, the other wrapped around my waist, and his face dropped to my hair. I felt him breathe me in. One long, shaking inhale like he was confirming I was real.
“You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Murmured against my temple.
The adrenaline crashed all at once.
I started shaking. Violent tremors that I couldn’t control, couldn’t stop, couldn’t even try to hide.
Xavier held me tighter. His fingers slid up to cup the back of my neck, thumb stroking the sensitive skin there. The other arm banded across my back, keeping me anchored to his chest.
“Breathe. Just breathe. It’s over.”
Quiet, his lips still pressed to my hair.
I couldn’t. My lungs wouldn’t work properly. Everything was catching in my throat.
His fingers moved to my cheeks, tilting my chin up. “Clare. Look at me.”
I did.
Green depths tracked my expression with devastating intensity. Every bit of the dying man gone. Just Xavier, beloved Xavier, focused, present, here.
“Breathe with me.” Then pressed his forehead to mine. “In.”
I inhaled shakily.
“Out.”
I exhaled.
“Again.”
We did it together. Three breaths. Four. His hands steady on my cheeks, thumb brushing my cheekbone, the other still wrapped around my waist.
The shaking started to ease.
“There you go. That’s my girl.”
Murmured.
