Page 125 of Gunnar

She turns off the water.

“Come to the kitchen. I’ll fix you something.”

She sighs. “I’m not hungry.”

“It’s just the shock. You will be later.”

When I put my arm around her shoulders, she leans into me and lets herself be led into the kitchen. She feels so small in my arms and my chest aches for her—for everything she’s been through today.

I pull out a chair for her. “Take a seat.”

I guide her into it, but she resists me. “Can’t I help?”

“Not tonight.” I ease her back into the chair, my hand still on her until I feel her body relax.

I peer into the fridge, pull out a big pot of leftover stew and put it on the stove. It’s nothing complicated, but I don’t want her sitting there with nothing to do but think.

I’m aware of her behind me anyway. I can feel it—the way she’s holding herself together, the effort it’s taking now the edge has worn off. And I don’t like it.

I dart back to her, scoop her up and deposit her gently on the counter beside me. “Better?”

“Yes.” She lets out a sigh and her hand goes to the claiming mark I gave her.

She feels it too—the soft, relentless buzz of our bond.

“What does this really mean?” she asks.

“It means you’re not in danger anymore. No one’s after you.” I hesitate, because I know what comes next, and I don’t want to say it. “It means you get your life back, Alexandria.”

She’s silent for a long time, watching me stir the pot.

When I look up, there’s confusion in her eyes.

She’s too quiet.

Too far away.

Mate, my beast presses.

I ignore it.

I could say it now. End this.

Tell her she’s mine. Tell her she’s staying. Tell her there’s no version of this where she walks away from me.

“I can go back to my apartment?” she asks.

I stop breathing.

“If that’s what you want,” I say.

Even if every part of me is already pushing the other way.

The stew starts to bubble. I turn back to it, grab two plates and ladle it out before I say anything else I can’t take back.

I bring her down from the counter and set her back at the table, right by my side.

“This is so good,” she mutters. Her eyelids are heavy, and I figure that eating is taking all her energy.