Trevor didn't look up when the door closed again, shutting out the muffled sound of movement in the halls as Windstone's men began their sweep.
His focus stayed where it belonged, on the slow, steady rise and fall of Lucas's chest, on the fragile warmth pressed into his side, and on the faint tremor in the hand still curled in his blazer.
His pheromones filled the room, heavy and warm, threaded through with the steady beat of his pulse. The world outside could burn itself to cinders for all he cared; his entire existence had narrowed to the pale-haired omega tucked against him.
A shift subtle, but there. Lucas's breathing changed, less deep, more controlled.
Trevor's fingers stilled for only a second before resuming their slow stroke through soft blond hair. "You're safe," he murmured. "Stay with me."
