Landon supported my waist as we walked through the small cottage doorway, helping me step carefully over the threshold. His possessive grip reminded me that despite the chaos surrounding us, his protective instincts remained fierce.
Outside the door, we found Ronan leaning heavily against the wall. His usually immaculate appearance was in shambles—hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, and dark circles shadowing his eyes.
"How is she?" I asked, my voice catching.
"The same," he answered, his tone hollow. His gaze shifted to the closed door behind him, a deep pain etched in the lines of his face. "Regina's sleeping now."
Landon nodded, then guided me forward. "Come, I'll take you to her."
As we continued down the narrow hallway, Landon's hand pressed firmly against the small of my back. "Remember what I told you," he murmured close to my ear. "Don't get too upset. It's not good for the pup."