Page 102 of Grim

Hours slid by.

Outside, the sky softened from black to gray to the faintest hint of dawn. Pale light crept through the curtains, brushing over Sophia’s face.

Grim exhaled for the first time in hours.

She murmured something in her sleep and curled even closer.

Grim closed his eyes.

He didn’t sleep. But for the first time since he’d found her, he let himself breathe.

Chapter 34

Sophia

Sophia woke to the kind of silence that didn’t feel like peace.

It felt like the world holding its breath.

Her eyes opened slowly, heavy and gritty, the faint morning light bleeding through her curtains in soft gold streaks. For a moment, she didn’t move. Couldn’t. Her body felt foreign, stiff, sore, like she’d been carved out of stone and left to harden overnight.

A solid chest pressed against her back. A heavy arm draped over her waist. A slow, steady breath brushing the crown of her head.

For a moment she didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t think.

Her mind scrambled, reaching for context, for memory, for anything that explained why she wasn’t cold, why she wasn’t alone, why she wasn’t—

Maddox.

The realization hit her like a soft, unexpected blow.

She was on the couch. Wrapped in a blanket. Curled against Grim’s chest, his body curved protectively around hers like he’d spent the entire night guarding her in his sleep.

The room was dim, washed in the pale gray of early morning. The lamp in the corner was still on; he must’ve left it that way for her. The house was quiet, but not the suffocating kind. More like the world was still waking up.

Sophia blinked slowly, her eyes gritty, her body stiff from sleeping in one position too long. Her cheek was pressed against Grim’s shirt, the fabric warm and smelling faintly of smoke, leather, and something that felt like safety.

Her chest tightened.

She didn’t deserve this. Didn’t know how to hold it. Didn’t know how to breathe around it.

She shifted carefully, trying to slip out from under his arm without waking him. She didn’t want to disturb him; he hadn’t slept in days, not really. She could feel the exhaustion in the heaviness of his limbs, the slackness of his grip.

But the moment she moved, Grim’s arm tightened instinctively.

His breath hitched, and he stirred, voice rough with sleep. “Sophia?”

She froze. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Grim blinked down at her, eyes still heavy, hair mussed, jaw shadowed with stubble. He looked younger like this. Softer. But the worry was still there, buried under the exhaustion.

“You okay?” he murmured.

She nodded, though her throat felt tight. “I just… need to go to the bathroom. Go back to sleep.”

Grim didn’t let go right away. His hand slid from her waist to her arm, slow and careful, like he was making sure she was real. Then he released her, leaning back against the couch with a low exhale.

“I’m not going back to sleep,” he said, voice gravelly.