Horace reacted before conscious thought could form—one moment Ariel was swaying, the next she was scooped safely into his arms. His movements were instinct, raw and feral, driven by a fear that stabbed straight through him. His grip was firm, possessive, as if the very night might try to steal her away from him.
"My love," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion he didn't bother to hide. His thumb brushed slowly across her cheek, tracing the pale flush that worried him. "Are you alright?"
Ariel blinked, trying to steady the spinning world. The dizziness still clung to her, a faint buzzing behind her eyes.
"I… I felt dizzy," she whispered.
But Horace felt everything—her racing pulse, her too-warm skin, her uneven breaths. His chest tightened painfully.
"Ariel," he said again, lower this time. "You scared me."
She tried to smile, but her limbs were weak, her body betraying her.
"It's nothing," she murmured. "Just… sudden."
