Colton's POV
Rescuing Hazel and getting her away from the enemy had been the easy part. What followed wasn't smooth at all—in fact, everything only grew harder, the complete opposite of what I had expected. After bringing her to the hotel and securing a decent room for her to rest, I had hoped she'd feel safer. But that wasn't the case.
Instead, the opposite happened. Sitting at the far end of the spacious room, I couldn't ignore her restless behavior. Though she was alone on the couch, she acted like someone else was in the room with her—her eyes darting nervously as if danger might appear at any second.
I won't deny it, her reactions unnerved me. Each time she suddenly turned her head, I braced myself for the worst, half-convinced that Liam's men had found us. But it was only her fear manifesting in quick, sharp movements.
I'd expected this reaction ever since we escaped the Pack. I had often wondered what would happen if Liam discovered I'd helped her, if he came for her—and I knew he eventually would. That's why I'd planned for contingencies long before this night.
But still, seeing her this way hurt. Her fear poured off her in waves, her anxiety clinging to the air. Did she not believe I could protect her? Earlier, she had even cried—something I hadn't expected. And then, with trembling fingers, she touched the lines between my brows and whispered that I looked better without frowning.
Her scent—mixed with the bath soap she'd just used—lingered in the air, intoxicating. I had to fight myself not to reach out and trace the curve of her skin. She was breathtaking, painfully beautiful, and her presence filled the room with a pull I could hardly resist.
I wanted her—God, I wanted her. But unlike my brother, I refused to act selfishly. She was hurting, haunted, and the last thing she needed was me crossing a boundary. So I reined in my emotions, even though the temptation was strong.
For a while, I just watched her, debating whether I should say something to calm her. Her shallow, uneven breaths finally pushed me to speak.
"Hey," I called softly.
She gasped and turned toward me, eyes wide with dread. Fear had etched itself into her expression.
"Is everything okay? You don't seem relaxed… what's wrong?" I asked, straightening in my seat.
Her breaths came out quick and shaky, and it struck me that she might be on the verge of a panic attack—probably triggered by some memory from her past.
"It's alright. Talk to me. I can help," I urged gently.
She gave a small nod, and that alone brought me relief. At least she trusted me enough to confide.
"I was just thinking… what if they come for us? What if Liam, or his warriors, or the trackers find us?" she asked, her voice trembling.
I couldn't help but smile faintly as I rose to my feet and crossed to her side. Her eyes widened, uncertain, but I needed her to believe me.
"If you keep letting fear consume you like this, you'll make yourself sick—and that's the last thing we need right now. I don't want that for you. We need to stay sharp, not overwhelmed by panic. You're safe here. I'll make sure nothing happens to you."
She exhaled shakily, tears glistening in her eyes.
"I understand… but I can't help feeling alarmed after everything that's happened," she whispered.
I squeezed her hand gently, intertwining our fingers. "Listen, I don't just have eyes in this room. I've got eyes around the hotel. Even if Liam's men did track us, we'd know before they got close. I covered our tracks. It'll be near impossible for him to find us, and even if he tried, it would cost him more than it's worth. So don't torment yourself with worry. You're safe. You have me."
Her grip on my hand tightened as if she was drawing strength from my reassurance. That small gesture warmed me. This was what I wanted—to ease her fears, to show her she wasn't alone anymore.
I wished I could erase all her scars—physical and emotional. I wished I could rid her of every memory of Liam's cruelty. The nightmares that plagued her weren't just dreams, they were echoes of the torment she had endured at my brother's hands. I hated myself for not saving her sooner, but at least now I could protect her from whatever was to come.
When night fell, she took a bath and went to bed. I drew the curtains, switched off the lights, and set up a makeshift bed on the sofa. I wanted to give her space, to respect her boundaries. But my resolve shifted when she called my name.
"Hey," she said softly.
I groaned, half-asleep. "Yeah?"
"I was wondering… if you could sleep here. With me. I just… I have a bad feeling."
I hesitated. "A foreboding about what?" I asked, immediately regretting it.
She shook her head. "Forget it. But… I'd feel safer if you stayed."
I studied her expression. She meant it. Still, I worried how my body would react so close to hers. The sparks I felt when our skin brushed before… what would happen if we shared a bed?
"Are you sure?" I asked cautiously.
"Yes, I'm sure," she replied, her voice soft but steady.
So I nodded and moved to the other side of the bed, careful to keep distance between us. I lay down beneath the blanket, listening to the rhythm of her breathing until it slowed. Watching her sleep beside me felt surreal.
But then she stirred—and did something I didn't expect.
She turned toward me, slid an arm around my waist, and nestled her head against my chest. Sparks exploded through me, my heartbeat thundering.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself, and whispered, "Do you feel better now?"
Her
eyes fluttered open briefly, meeting mine.
"Yes," she breathed. "I do."