Elijah’s arms tightened around me as if he could anchor the storm still raging inside my chest. My forehead pressed against his shoulder, and for a moment, all I could hear was the steady rhythm of his breathing—slow, controlled, like he was forcing calm into the space for both of us.

“I’m here,” he murmured, his lips brushing my hair. “Just stay.”

But even as he held me, I felt the tremor beneath his skin—controlled, quiet, but real. Elijah was shaken too. He just hid it ...