I should give her space. Should let her process whatever Danil's comment stirred up. Instead, I knock softly.
"Come in," she says, her voice small.
She's sitting on the bed, still fully dressed, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her eyes are red, like she's been crying, and something in my chest cracks at the sight.
"Hey." I close the door behind me and move to sit beside her. "You okay?"
"Fine." But she's not fine. She's terrified.
"He knows something," I say quietly. "About you. About who you really are."
She doesn't deny it, just stares at her hands, her fingers twisting together. "He said he was wrong."
"He was lying." I reach out and tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
Her breath hitches, and she looks up at me with those same eyes that have been haunting my dreams since the moment I woke up, freezing, and looked into them. Even scared, even vulnerable, she's beautiful.
"Sasha…" Her voice breaks on my name.
"Listen to me." I cup her face, forcing her to meet my eyes. "I don't care what Danil thinks he knows. I don't care what heremembers or what he suspects. You're under my protection. That means something."
"You don't understand. If he figures out who I really am?—"
"Then he figures it out." I brush my thumb across her cheekbone. "And I deal with it. You told me everything, Maya. I know why you're here. I know what you're running from. That doesn't change."
"But he's your best friend. Your brother."
"And you're…" I pause, searching for the right word. "You're important to me. More important than you probably should be, considering I've known you for what, a few weeks?"
A ghost of a smile touches her lips.
"And somehow, you've become the most important thing in my life. So no, I'm not going to let Danil or anyone else hurt you. Not while I'm breathing."
She leans into my touch, and the movement makes her sweater shift, revealing the curve of her collarbone. "The walls are thin."
It takes me a second to understand what she means. "You're worried about Danil hearing us?"
"He's right there." Her cheeks flush pink. "In the next room."
"So we'll be quiet." I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. "Unless you're planning on being loud?"
"Sasha!" She swats at my chest, but there's no force behind it. "I'm serious."
"So am I." I catch her hand and press it flat against my chest, letting her feel my heartbeat. "But if it makes you feel better, we can just sleep. I'll stay with you. Keep you safe."
"You don't have to?—"
"I want to." I stand and strip down to my thermal pants, then climb into bed beside her. She hesitates for only a moment before curling against my chest, her body fitting perfectly against mine. Even through her clothes, I can feel every curve. The softness of her ass pressed against my hips. The way her legs tangle with mine.
We lie there in the dark, listening to the storm rage outside and the occasional creak of the couch springs from the living room. Her breathing eventually evens out, but I stay awake, staring at the ceiling.
Because I can't stop thinking about Danil. About the way he moves, the way he watches, the way he can shift from warm and laughing to cold and calculating in a heartbeat. There's violence there, just under the skin. Controlled and leashed, but always present.
And if he's my best friend, if he's the person I trusted most in that other life, then what does that say about me?
What kind of man inspires that kind of loyalty from someone who carries death in his eyes?
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