Something hot and violent flared up inside me, and the image of their fingers grabbing her popped into my head. I had to swallow down the growl crawling its way up my throat. I did not want to scare Ilana. Not right now, when she was already terrified.
“You won’t have to think about them again,” I promised. “They won’t touch you. Not while I’m breathing.”
Her lashes lowered at the ferocity in my voice, as though the certainty itself made her heart pound harder. “Avgust…”
“Yes?”
“That is a very intense thing to say.”
I allowed a slow breath out. “I am a very intense man, Ilana.”
Her lips parted, just slightly, and for one suspended moment, something shifted in the air between us. It wasn’t desire. Not yet. But something heavier. Something that hummed low and warm beneath her fear, threading itself into the cracks left by the trauma.
Connection.
She stared at my mouth before she caught herself, jerking her gaze upward so fast she nearly winced. I felt that small flicker of awareness all the way through me.
But I couldn’t act on it.
Not tonight.
Not with shock still clinging to her.
So I leaned back a fraction, giving her space, even though every instinct told me to pull her against me again, to tuck her beneath my chin until the trembling stopped for good.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, trying to ground her.
She blinked once. Twice. “I don’t think I can eat anything.”
“What about water?”
She hesitated. “Maybe.”
I stood slowly, testing her reaction. She watched every movement like she didn’t want me out of sight, even for a single second, even if she didn’t realize it.
“It’ll only take a minute,” I assured her.
She nodded, clutching the blanket tighter. When I returned with a glass, she reached out with both hands, fingers still unsteady. The moment her skin brushed mine, she froze. I did too. Her pulse fluttered rapidly against the base of her thumb, and I could feel it in the silence.
I guided the glass into her hands anyway. “Easy.”
She drank in small sips, each one loosening the knot in her throat but not quite relaxing the rest of her.
“Better?” I asked.
“A little.”
I set the glass aside and sat beside her, before scooping her into my arms and pulling her closer to me. A soft whimper escaped her mouth at my touch, but she did not resist or pull back, her small frame easily settling into mine like the pieces of a puzzle. The blanket slipped off her shoulder, exposing the bare line of her collarbone, and I reached over and pulled it back up.
Her breath caught again.
“Please don’t leave me alone tonight.”
Something inside me snapped into place. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
“I am not asking you to stay because I am scared,” she added quickly, eyes still down. “I just… don’t want to be alone with my own head right now. Having you here helps.”
“I know.”
