Page 22 of Hunter

She stops hitting me, her fists falling limp at her sides, and she buries her face in my shoulder. Her breathing is shallow and ragged, and I don’t move, letting her lean into me, knowing this moment—this release—is a step in the right direction. We stay like that for what feels like hours, and when she finally lifts her head to look at me, her eyes are filled with so much emotion, I can barely breathe.

“Will it get better?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

“Only you can decide that, my love,” I say, my throat tight. Her tear-streaked face breaks me all over again.

“I wake up sometimes,” she says quietly, her hands trembling in her lap, “and I just want it to end. To make it all stop.”

My heart stops, the words sinking into me like daggers. A world without Sophia? I can’t imagine it. I can’t bear it. She fidgets with her hands, avoiding my gaze, but I can see the torment in her eyes.

“I’ve thought about it,” she murmurs. “About grabbing the knife. About making it stop. I’m so tired of everything—the memories, the pain. It’s like a movie I can’t turn off.”

My chest tightens, and my body feels cold like gravity’s pulling me into a black hole. But she’s right in front of me, still here, still holding on.

“But I can’t do that,” she says, looking up at me with so much sorrow in her eyes. “I can’t hurt the people I love.”

And that…that is the only thing keeping her tethered. I release the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding, but theweight of her pain still hangs between us, heavy and real. And I know no matter what happens, I’ll never stop fighting for her.

I grab her face with both my hands, my heart hammering as I lean in, our foreheads touching. “The world would be a much darker place without you in it, Sophia,” I say, the words spilling out before I can stop them. I’m not sure if that’s the best thing to say. I probably should have stayed quiet, but something inside me—my heart, maybe—screams at me to remind her how precious she is so loudly, I can’t help myself.

My cruel mind conjures up a vision of Sophia’s lifeless body in a casket, and a surge of rage floods through me. My chest tightens, suffocating with the thought of losing her. The anger threatens to consume me, a powerful forcethat feels like it could destroy everything in its path.

I gently caress her cheek, my thumb tracing a soothing line, trying to remind myself that she’s here, she’s alive. I tell myself over and over: if she was to leave this world, I would follow right after. My life has no meaning without her.

She yawns, and I take it as my cue to leave. I rise from the bed, and she sits up, crossing her legs, her eyes soft with a hint of confusion. “You’re leaving?” she asks, a small frown on her face.

“Not if you don’t want me to,” I reply. She shakes her head, her frown fading, and she lays back down, scooting to the center of the bed to make room for me. I stand there for a few seconds, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the simple rhythm of her breathing soothing the storm inside me.

“Are you going to lay down anytime soon or stare at me until tomorrow?” she teases, amusement dancing in her beautiful eyes.

With a playful roll of my eyes, I slip off my shoes and shirt, then lie down next to her. When I settle into place, she scoots close to me, lifts her head, and rests it on my shoulder. Her eyes peek up at me through her lashes, and I kiss her forehead,lingering for a moment. There’s a small glint in her eyes as she looks at me. If my imagination isn’t getting the best of me, she looks…happy. At least, I hope that’s what I’m seeing.

She yawns again. “Go to sleep, moya koroleva. Tomorrow is another day.” She closes her eyes, and I just watch her for a while, my mind racing through the past few months, wondering what the future holds.

I don’t know how long I lie there before my phone vibrates. I debate looking at it, not wanting to disturb her sleep, but what if it’s important? I sigh and reach for it with my right hand, opening the message app. A text from Andrei.

How is she doing?

I think for a moment before responding. I don’t want to share too much. Sophia is a private person. She hasn’t told anyone about her pain, and it’s not my place to do so.

She’s breathing and alive.

It’s the best I can give him without crossing any boundaries. If Sophia ever decides to share more, that’s her choice.

After checking a few emails and messages, my eyelids grow heavy. I place the phone back on the nightstand, close my eyes, and try to relax, knowing she’s safe next to me. But then, the thought crosses my mind: she wants me to train her.

I grab my phone again and quickly text Andrei.

Tell Stephano to have the gym ready for me. And let the men know the gym is closed for the next few weeks, maybe months. No one is allowed inside until I say otherwise.

I don’t know how long she’ll need before she’s ready or when she’ll want to start, but I’m making sure nothing will rush her. No one will make her feel uncomfortable. Not my men, not anyone. The gym is closed, no exceptions. She needs to feel safe to heal in her own time, and if that means cutting off everything else, then that’s what I’ll do.

After a few minutes, Andrei replies with an, “okay,” and I finally set my phone down.

I pull her closer, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against mine, the steady rhythm of her breath soothing the chaos in my heart. My lips find the crown of her head, and I whisper softly, ‘Good night, moya lyubov.’ My heart swells with a love so fierce, I can barely contain it. She’s here. She’s safe. And I’ll protect her with everything I have.

TEN

SOPHIA

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