"Senna." My voice comes out rougher than I intend, but I force myself to gentle it. "Senna, look at me."
Her storm-gray eyes lift to mine, wide and glassy with unshed tears.
"I've got you," I tell her, sliding one arm under her knees and the other around her back. "You're going to be okay."
She doesn't protest when I lift her, just curls into my chest like she's trying to disappear. The bond flares bright and fierce in response, singing in my veins like it's finally found what it's been searching for.
She fits against me perfectly. Like she was made to be held exactly like this.
I stand, cradling her carefully, and glance back at the unconscious piece of shit on the floor. Part of me wants to put my boot through his ribs. Make sure he feels a fraction of the pain he's caused her.
But Senna is more important.
Getting her out of here is more important.
"Is he—" Senna's voice is barely a whisper, muffled against my coat.
"Unconscious." I keep my tone even, controlled, even though everything inside me is screaming for blood. "He'll live."
Unfortunately.
She shudders in my arms, and I tighten my grip on her.
"I'm taking you with me," I tell her, leaving no room for argument. "You're not staying here."
"He'll come after me." Her voice cracks. "He'll?—"
"Let him try."
I carry her out of the shop, not bothering to close the door behind us. Let the bastard wake up cold and confused on his own damn floor.
The morning air bites at my face as I step outside, and Senna shivers against me. I adjust my hold, making sure my coat is wrapped around her as much as possible.
"Lorenth—"
"We'll talk when we're somewhere safe," I cut in gently. "Right now, I just need you to trust me."
She goes quiet, her fingers curling into the fabric of my tunic.
And that small gesture—that tentative trust—does something to me. Breaks through the fury and the protective instinct and touches something deeper.
She's mine.
The bond knows it. My soul knows it. And now, finally, I'm going to make damn sure she knows it too.
12
SENNA
I'm trembling so hard I can feel my teeth chattering, but I can't stop. Can't make my body obey even the simplest command tobe still.
Lorenth's arms are solid around me, warm despite the cold morning air, and I press my face harder into his chest because I don't know what else to do. His heartbeat thuds steady beneath my ear, counterpoint to my own ragged breathing.
He saved me.
The thought loops through my mind on repeat, disbelieving. He came back. He found me. And when Darian?—
My split lip throbs, a sharp reminder of what happened this morning. How Darian's face twisted with fury when I tried to leave for the stable, his accusation ringing through the small rooms above the shop.
