Wren. In this kind of pain. In this kind of danger. With no one she trusted. No one to hold her. No one to make sure she made it out the other side.
I breathed deep. Steady. Careful. When I finally spoke, my voice was barely audible. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
She blinked.
“Not just because it would’ve…” I stopped, teeth gritting. “Because it would’ve killed me to know someone else?—”
I shook my head. No. That wasn’t fair to lay on her now.
I tried again.
“I’m glad you waited,” I said, quieter. “Even if you didn’t know it was for us.”
She looked up at me then, eyes heavy, but clear. No masks. No pushback. Just that tired, honest woman I’d been chasing since the moment I realized she was missing.
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.
I shifted just slightly, careful not to loosen the blanket around her, and pressed my forehead gently against hers. Skin to fabric. Nothing more.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured.
She let out a breath, this one less shaky. More surrender than struggle. Finally,finally, she closed her eyes.
Wren finally gave in to sleep.
Her breathing evened, the tension in her body melting one slow inch at a time until her weight went fully slack in my arms. I didn’t move right away—couldn’t. My body was a live wire, raw and burning. Every breath of her scent scraped against the inside of my skull, pulling tight every thread of control I’d laid down.
But I had it.
Barely. Just enough.
I shifted her carefully, still swaddled tight in the blanket like some fragile, priceless artifact. She made a soft sound in protest, instinctive, but didn’t wake. I eased her down into the nest of pillows we’d built earlier, adjusted the edge of the blanket at her shoulder, then stood.
Just being vertical hurt.
The blood pumping through my body felt molten. Like every nerve was screaming her name.
I made it to the bathroom in seven long strides.
Turned on the faucet. Cranked it to cold.
Bent down and threw two full handfuls of freezing water straight into my face.
The shock didn’t help as much as I wanted it to. My skin still burned. My lungs still ached.
I gripped the edge of the sink and leaned into it, head bowed, trying to exhale through the fire. My back muscles were tight. My thighs throbbed. Everything in me wasdemanding—answers, action, contact.
But it wasn’t mine to take. None of it. She hadn’t asked for a claim. She hadn’t asked forme. Just help. Just safety. I gave her that. I’d keep giving it until she no longer needed it and then?—
I didn’t finish that thought. Instead, I did something stupid. I glanced in the mirror.
The man staring back at me looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His jaw was clenched so hard it pulsed, eyes rimmed with red, pupils still too wide.
Pathetic.
I splashed another handful of water across my face. Entertained—for the briefest second—the idea of stripping down and throwing myself into the snow outside. It probably wouldn’t help either.
But the ache would at least be honest.
