He rested his forehead against the back of her shoulder and exhaled, long and deep.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered, his voice rough, low. “I almost lost it again.”
River turned slowly in his arms, this time allowed, her cheeks flushed, heart still racing. She brought her fingers to his jaw, lifting his gaze to hers.
“You didn’t lose it,” she whispered. “You are back.”
Heiko stood still, the air in the chamber thick with tension and the lingering weight of everything that had nearly happened.
His hands were trembling, a subtle, involuntary shake—aftershocks of the storm that had surged through him only moments ago. The beast had nearly taken full control.
Again.
It rattled him to the core.
But then, River, soft yet unyielding, reached forward and took his hands in hers, squeezing them
