EVANDER'S POV
Her fingers didn't just grab my wrist.
They latched.
Small, delicate, deceptively soft… but strong.
Stronger than she had any right to be, especially while unconscious.
I froze, staring down at her hand clamped around me—a contrast that made something sharp twist inside my chest. Her palm was warm. Her fingertips trembled slightly, tiny movements that brushed against my skin as though she were trying to pull me closer even in sleep.
And she succeeded.
I took a breath, slow and controlled, forcing the tension out of my muscles one inch at a time. I didn't move. Not yet. Because if I tugged too hard, I'd wake her. And if she woke up holding me like this…
No.
No, I couldn't let myself imagine that.
I leaned in slightly, close enough for my senses to sharpen around her. Her heartbeat—steady. Calm. Completely unbothered. No spike of fear. No lie hiding in the rhythm. She really was asleep.
Unaware.
Unprotected.
