Page 20 of Body and Soul

I waited patiently, giving him space to gather his thoughts. Pushing too hard would only make him shut down further.

Finally, Eli drew in a shuddering breath. “I saw some of them today,” he said quietly. “Cultists. Children of the Light.”

I kept my expression carefully neutral, but my heart clenched at the tremor in his voice. “Where?” I asked.

“Near my apartment.” Eli's fingers clenched, nails digging into the soft bread and leaving indents. “That’s why I was late for work. They stopped me on my way to work and tried to talk to me. I couldn’t think. I should’ve… I should’ve…”

Eli's words choked off, his breathing growing erratic. I could see the way his breath quickened, the tremor in his hands as he tore at the crust of his sandwich, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Moving slowly, I closed the distance between us and crouched in front of him, bringing myself to his eye level.

“Eli, look at me,” I said, infusing my voice with quiet authority. After a moment, his haunted gaze met mine. “Breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Nice and slow.”

I demonstrated the calming breaths, holding his stare steadily. Eli hesitated, a gasp escaping his lips as he fought against the urge to retreat. But slowly, his breath began to sync with mine, the frantic rhythm easing into a steadier cadence. Some of the wild panic receded from his eyes.

“Good,” I murmured. “That's good, Eli. Keep breathing, just like that.”

As the immediate crisis passed, I assessed him critically. He was shaking like a leaf, face bone-white. A sheen of sweat glistened on his temples despite the chill in the room.

“They know where I live,” Eli choked out. His voice trembled, each word a struggle to keep from cracking, as his eyes widened, revealing the raw fear that twisted in his gut. “They'll come for me. I can't go back there. I can't.”

He looked up at me pleadingly, desperation and vulnerability etched into every line of his face. A thrill raced through me, butit felt heavy on my conscience, like a tide pulling me between the desire to protect him and the urge to bind him to me.

I held Eli's desperate gaze, my mind racing with possibilities even as something twisted in my chest at the naked fear in his eyes. This was the opportunity I'd been waiting for—a chance to bind Eli more tightly to me, to make him dependent on my protection and goodwill. His terror of the cult could be a powerful tool, if wielded correctly.

And yet, a part of me recoiled at the thought of exploiting his trauma for my own ends. The instinct to shield him, to soothe his fears, rose up fiercely once more. I tried to shove it down, to focus on the cold machinations that had guided me for so long... but I was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain that ruthless detachment where Eli was concerned.

Perhaps there was a way to reconcile my conflicting desires. To use his need for safety to draw him in, while also providing the genuine care and security he so clearly craved. I could be both his manipulator and his savior. The one who held his leash and the one who sheltered him from harm. It was a delicate balance... but I'd always enjoyed a challenge.

I reached out slowly, giving Eli time to pull away if he chose, and laid my hand on his knee. He tensed at the contact, but didn't flinch. Progress.

“You don't have to go back there,” I said firmly, holding his gaze. “You can stay with me for as long as you like.”

Eli blinked up at me, brow furrowed as he processed my words. “With you?” His voice barely broke above a whisper, a flicker of disbelief in his wide eyes mingled with the soft glimmer of hope.

I squeezed his knee lightly, grounding him with the touch. “Yes. I have more than enough space, and my home has excellent security. No one would dare come for you there.”

Eli's eyes darted between my face and the hand on his knee, uncertainty warring with desperate longing in his gaze. “I... I don't know,” he said haltingly. “We barely know each other. And I don't want to impose...”

“You wouldn't be imposing,” I assured him, keeping my voice steady and confident. “I'm offering this freely. You need a safe place to stay, and I have the means to provide that.”

Eli swallowed hard, throat bobbing. His fingers twisted anxiously in the hem of his shirt. “For how long?”

“For as long as necessary. Until things blow over with the cult, or until you feel ready to be on your own again. There's no set timeline.” I held his skittish gaze, willing him to accept what I was offering. What I knew he needed, even if he was afraid to reach for it.

Eli’s gaze fell to his hands, fingers twisting at the hem of his shirt. Stay with a near-stranger, but be safe from the cult's reach. Or risk it on his own, clinging to his fierce independence even as it threatened to crumble at any moment.

I gentled my grip on his knee, rubbing my thumb along the inner seam of his slacks. Soothing. Persuading. “Eli. Let me help you,” I murmured.

Eli’s shoulders drooped, a sigh escaping his lips as if a heavy weight had been lifted, the tension dissolving like mist in the morning sun. He drew in a shaky breath and released it slowly. Then, with a jerky nod, he acquiesced. “Okay. I'll stay with you.”

A rush of relief surged through me, but I forced my features into a mask of calm, concealing the exhilaration bubbling just beneath the surface. This was the outcome I had hoped for, but I couldn't let Eli see the extent of my satisfaction. Not yet.

I gave his knee a final squeeze before releasing my grip and standing. Eli tracked my movements warily, but the skittish prey animal look had faded from his eyes. He no longer seemed poised to bolt at any sudden sound or motion. Progress indeed.

I stood and offered my hand to Eli, palm up in silent invitation. He hesitated a moment, wary gaze flicking between my face and my outstretched fingers. I could see the conflicting emotions playing out across his angular features—the desperate longing for safety warring with the ingrained mistrust that had kept him alive this long.

After a tense beat, Eli reached out tentatively and placed his hand in mine. Slender fingers, nails bitten to the quick, skin roughened by a hard life. So fragile, so easily broken. The warmth of his trust enveloped me like a cloak, and I tightened my grip around his fragile hand, acutely aware of the power I held over him.

I pulled Eli to his feet, the motion smooth and controlled. He stumbled slightly, unbalanced, and I caught him with my other hand on his waist, steadying him. Eli tensed at the touch but didn't pull away, allowing the contact. Allowing me to guide him.

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