Nicholas stirred from sleep to the faint sound of whimpering.
It took him a second to orient himself—his eyes heavy, the room still steeped in the deep hush of night. But the sound came again, sharp and raw, pulling him fully awake.
His gaze snapped to the bed.
Ella.
She was tangled in the sheets, her legs kicking faintly, her arms twitching. Her face twisted in fear as soft, desperate noises escaped her lips.
"No… please—don't…"
Nicholas was out of the chair and by her side in seconds. He crouched low, touching her shoulder gently.
"Ella," he said, voice low and steady. "Ella, it's just a dream. You're safe."
She flinched at his touch, gasping awake with a strangled cry. Her eyes flew open, wild and unseeing for a moment.
"Ella," he whispered again. "It's me. You're okay."
Her gaze found his at last, and the panic in her eyes gave way to recognition. She sat upright, clutching the sheets to her chest, her entire body trembling.
"It was a nightmare," she said, her voice cracking. "I thought—I thought he was here."
Nicholas didn't hesitate. He moved onto the bed beside her and gently wrapped his arms around her. At first, she went stiff, her breath catching. But when he didn't let go—when his warmth and quiet presence began to settle around her like a shield—she melted into him with a choked sob.
Her forehead pressed against his shoulder, her hands fisting in his shirt.
Nicholas stroked her back slowly, his voice calm, soothing. "You're safe now. I've got you."
She nodded against him, trying to control her breathing. He could feel the rapid stutter of her heartbeat against his chest, and it ignited a fury in him all over again—one he pushed down for her sake.
After several quiet moments, he felt her settle against him, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
"Do you want me to stay?" he asked quietly.
She didn't answer—just nodded and shifted closer.
Nicholas pulled the blanket up around her and adjusted the pillows behind them. She fit easily against him, like she belonged there, curled in the circle of his arms. He leaned back against the headboard, holding her close, letting her hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"You really don't have to sleep in a chair again," she mumbled, her voice sleepy but sincere.
"I didn't plan to," he said, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "Figured I'd remind you I'm your husband, after all. Comes with a few privileges."
She let out a soft, surprised breath—halfway between a laugh and a scoff. "Right. Because husbands always barge into their wives' nightmares and make themselves at home."
"Exactly," he said, nuzzling her hair slightly. "Next time I'll bring a snack and a ring to complete the look."
She chuckled then—a real laugh, small and tired, but genuine. Nicholas savored the sound like a balm.
He let the quiet return, but this time it was different. Not heavy, not suffocating. Just still. Peaceful.
Her breathing slowed as the tremors in her body faded.
"You can sleep," he whispered. "I'm right here."
And she did.
He felt the moment she drifted off. The way her fingers relaxed, her breathing deepened, her weight sinking fully into him. He didn't move, didn't shift—not even to ease the tension in his own back.
He stayed perfectly still, holding her like a lifeline.
His hand rested lightly against her side, fingers tracing invisible circles against her ribs. The bruises there, fading but still dark, only made him hold her closer.
He closed his eyes, breathing her in.
She smelled faintly of lavender and something else—something warm and familiar that settled deep in his chest. He didn't know what was happening to him. He wasn't supposed to feel like this—this protective, this irrational. Like nothing else in the world mattered except keeping her safe.
She was just a girl.
A stranger, not so long ago.
But now?
Now she was the only thing that felt real.
And the thought of her ever returning to that house—ever being within reach of that bastard again—made something dark coil in his chest.
He tilted his head and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.
"I'm not letting you go back there," he whispered, more to himself than her. "Not ever."
She murmured something in her sleep, her hand tightening briefly on his shirt.
Nicholas let out a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the vulnerability of the moment. He was used to power, to control. To keeping everything at arm's length. But Ella…
She slipped past every defense he had, without even trying.
As dawn crept in and the room lightened slightly, Nicholas stayed where he was, never loosening his hold.
This was exactly where he wanted to be.
And for the first time in years, sleep came easily.