Aria
I woke up curled in the safety of Pax’s arms. Warmth radiated around me. A fire that burned at our connection, where he was pinned to my side.
A cover.
A shroud.
An embrace.
Groggy, I blinked my eyes open to find his right there. That pale, fiery gaze tacked on me in all its ferocity as he stared at me from where his head rested on a pillow.
I got the sense that he’d remained in that exact position for the entire night.
The man was a guard.
A sentry.
Wishing for a way to be my savior.
My chest constricted at the pain that also roiled in that gaze as he looked across at me.
Deep, dark, and haunted.
Though there was such relief mixed in it that I felt myself floating in the sanctuary of the murky depths.
Held there.
Uplifted.
A buoy and belief.
His palm was already on my cheek, and the pad of his thumb brushed along the curve of it before it wandered over my chapped lips.
“Hi,” he murmured. The single word was raw. Brittle and cracked.
I swallowed around the sticky thickness that nearly closed off my throat. The faintest hitch of a smile wobbled at the edge of my mouth, the amount of love I felt for him in that moment overwhelming. “Hi.”
He kept looking at me that way, unrelenting, drinking me in as if he’d been afraid he’d never get to see me again.
It’d been close.
Even though I felt disoriented—almost numb—I knew it. I remembered feeling myself drifting away into the nothingness.
He blinked. Studying. Adoring. Half grieving. “The way it feels to see those beautiful eyes staring back at me.”
Reaching out a shaky hand, I curled it around his wrist, the words tacky as I forced them from my tongue. “The way it feels to wake up and the first thing I see is your face.”
So fierce and awe-striking.
Its harsh angles carved in my memories and forever written in my mind.
His lips plush and his nose sharp.
And his heart ... I could feel it thundering through me.
“I was so afraid, Aria,” he gritted out. “So fuckin’ afraid.”
The movement was slight as I nodded against his palm. “I was afraid, too.”