Page 44 of Bloom in Darkness

Footsteps come from the main floor. Two scents hit the corridor almost together—Silas and Rourke.

Silas slows when he sees us, taking in Sabine, Astra pressed against my chest, and me one wrong move from putting someone through the wall. Rourke keeps coming.

“What the hell happened?” Silas asks.

“None of your business,” Astra says, quick and sharp, but his fingers tremble where they dig into my arm.

Rourke’s gaze slides to him. “Looks like it became everybody’s business.”

Another growl starts low in my ribs, but Astra’s flinch has me choking it back before it gets any farther. I loosen my arm around his waist, checking the pressure without taking my eyes off Rourke.

Sabine smooths her jacket, a crisp, dismissive motion. “Bryn seems to have forgotten the difference between protecting the floor and threatening the owner.”

“You grabbed him.”

“I redirected my employee.”

My teeth grind together. Before I can answer, Rourke shifts closer; his scent spikes, aggressive and challenging. “Maybe because he works for her.”

Astra gets his phone out one-handed, his shaking thumb moving quickly enough over the screen that Silas notices. “Who are you calling?”

“Caelan.” He doesn’t look up until the message goes through. “He was already on his way.”

Rourke takes another step, forcing me to shift Astra farther behind my body. “Back up.”

Rourke’s mouth curls. “You think he needs protecting from me?”

“Yes.”

His scent surges, dark and provocative. Mine answers before I can think—thick and territorial, flooding the space between us. Astra makes a tight, frightened sound and fists his hand in the back of my shirt. “Bryn, no.”

Sabine says something I barely hear over the blood pounding in my ears while Silas talks across her, his words lost under Rourke continuing to edge forward. Rourke keeps edging closer like he wants to find the exact point where I break.

A door slams hard from the service hall. Then Caelan’s voice slices through the noise. “What the fuck is going on?”

Everything stops except the pounding in my veins. Caelan rounds the corner fast—the hitch in his step barely there—hair messy from the wind, coat hanging open. He takes in the scene in one sweep: Astra pressed against me, Sabine poised, Rourke advancing. His jaw locks, every trace of the Caelan who jokes his way through most problems disappearing.

Rourke chooses that moment to take another step.

Caelan cuts between us before I can move, planting one forearm across Rourke’s chest and stopping him cold. He doesn’t shove him into the wall, but the warning is clear enough.

“Take one more step toward them,” Caelan says quietly. “I dare you.”

Rourke holds his ground for a second, then stops pushing forward. Caelan lowers his arm but stays between him and us.

“Everybody take a fucking minute.”

Sabine starts to speak. Caelan points at her without turning. “Not yet.” Her mouth snaps shut.

Then Caelan looks at me. “Bryn.”

I’m still vibrating with the need to move.

“Enough. You’re scaring him.”

That gets through. I look down and finally register Astra’s breathing, too quick and shallow, his fingers still clenched around my arm. I force the growl down and loosen my hold another inch.

Caelan’s attention shifts to Astra. His face softens, but he stays where Astra can see him instead of crowding closer. “You okay?”