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“Wake up.”

She thrashed beneath my hands.

Her forehead was damp, strands of hair clinging to her temples. Her breathing came in sharp, uneven gasps, each one catching in her throat as though she couldn’t get enough air.

“Sienna, hey.” I softened my voice. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Whatever nightmare she was trapped inside, she couldn’t hear me. Her eyes remained tightly shut, her face twisted with an anguish that made my stomach twist.

Was this what she was afraid of when she demanded her own room? Or was I the cause behind her nightmare tonight?

“No,” she whimpered. “Don’t touch me.”

I swallowed hard.

I loosened my grip on her shoulders, afraid that holding her too firmly would hurt her or frighten her further.

“It’s just a dream. You’re safe now,” I whispered, though deep down I knew it wasn’t. She was reliving her terrors: whether those were me or her kidnappers.

For five years I was thinking about this woman. I pictured her body yielding to mine, her hands on my chest and it got me through each day.

It never occurred to me that I would find her in this state. Now, I knew I would do anything to help her recover. There’d be time for making her pay, in a way that wouldn’t wake her demons.

Her head jerked sharply against the pillow.

“I’m here.” I kept my voice even and quiet, hoping it would calm her. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Her breathing quickened again and she pulled her knees toward her chest, curling inward as though trying to make herself smaller. Her fingers remained locked around the blanket.

“Don’t… please don’t…” Fuck, maybe I was making it worse. I stood up to go when her next words stopped me. “Don’t go.”

So I stayed.

I moved closer and rested one hand lightly against her upper arm, careful not to restrain her. With the other, I brushed the damp hair away from her forehead.

“Shh, I’m here.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

The fierce composure she carried during the day was gone, leaving only someone caught in a nightmare she couldn’t escape from.

“You’re all right.”

She whimpered again.

“Just breathe.” Her face turned my way, but her eyes were still shut. “You’re such a good girl. And brave too.” Her breathing seemed to ease with every spoken word, so I continued speaking softly, saying nonsense. Whatever came to mind while I stroked her hair, slow and steady, again and again. “I was furious at you, blondie, but now that I have you with me, my anger that burned for five years has loosened. It seems impossible to stay mad at you. Remember when you kissed me that second time? I lied when I said it was a bad kiss. I had to fight the urge not to devour you.”

I kept my voice steady, hoping that beneath the nightmare, some part of her could hear it.

“You’re not alone, and I swear to you, every single one of those men will die.”

Her fists loosened slightly, and while her breathing was still somewhat uneven, it became slower and deeper. The tension in her shoulders eased and the crease between her brows softened.

“That’s it,” I murmured, brushing her hair with my fingers with steady, gentle strokes. “Sleep and get some rest. I’ve got you.”

Her breathing steadied.

Sienna’s fingers finally released the blanket. Her hand fell limply against the mattress and her face relaxed into the pillow. She let out a quiet, shuddering breath, the last remnants of the nightmare seeming to leave with it.

“Good girl,” I murmured, and was about to get up when she turned her face toward me, her eyes still shut. She grabbed my hand, then rested her cheek against it and released a soft breath.