Page 106 of Grim

Sophia jerked awake with a gasp, her whole body lurching forward like she’d been thrown. Her lungs seized, refusing to pull in air. Her vision blurred, the room spinning, the shadows too close.

Her hands flew to her chest. Her breath came in sharp, broken bursts. Her ribs felt like they were caving in.

She wasn’t there. She knew she wasn’t there. But her body didn’t believe it.

“Sophia.”

His voice cut through the panic, low, rough, steady.

A hand hovered near her shoulder, not touching, just close enough to feel.

“Sophia, look at me.”

She tried. Her eyes darted, unfocused, frantic.

Grim moved slowly, carefully, shifting to sit behind her. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t crowd her. He just stayed close, breathing slow and deep like he was trying to lend her his lungs.

“You’re here,” he murmured. “You’re home. You’re safe.”

Her knees wobbled. A sharp tremor ran through her. Her ribs tightened like someone had cinched a belt around her chest. Her vision blurred. Her fingers trembled violently.

Grim’s hand lifted — slow, deliberate — and rested over hers on her chest.

“Breathe with me,” he whispered.

She tried. Failed. Tried again.

Grim inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, his hand rising and falling with each breath. Sophia matched him, shaky at first, then steadier, her lungs finally loosening enough to pull in air.

Her body sagged backward, her shoulder brushing his chest.

Grim froze for half a second, then his arms came up around her, gentle but firm, holding her together while she shook apart.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair. “I’ve got you.”

She clung to his forearm, her breath still uneven, her heart still racing.

It took a long time for the tremors to stop.

She didn’t mean to fall asleep again.

But she did, curled against Grim’s chest, his arms wrapped around her, his breath warm against the back of her neck.

She didn’t know how long she slept before she felt it.

A jerk. A sharp inhale. A tremor running through Grim’s body.

Sophia blinked awake, disoriented, her mind still foggy. Grim’s arm tightened around her, too tight, too sudden, and his breath hitched like he was choking on something he couldn’t swallow.

“Maddox?” she whispered.

He didn’t answer.

His jaw clenched. His shoulders shook. His breath came in harsh, uneven bursts.

She recognized it instantly.

Not the nightmare — the panic.