Axel has that effect.
“You scared the hell out of me,” I say, but my voice lacks any real annoyance. It’s impossible to be truly annoyed at Axel. He’s intense and overwhelming, but also comforting. And if I’m being honest, I’m happy not to be alone.
He frowns. “Bad dreams?”
I consider lying. But something about the way he’s looking at me, like he can see straight through my bullshit, makes me hesitate.
“I’m okay,” I say finally, splitting the difference between honesty and my usual deflection.
Axel makes a sound in his throat, something between a scoff and a grunt. “You’re a terrible liar, Wildcat.” He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. “Your hands are still shaking.”
I look down. He’s right.
Traitor hands.
“What are you doing up?” I ask, eager to shift the focus away from me.
He shrugs one shoulder. “Don’t sleep much,” he says. Then he cocks his head, studying me with those intense eyes. “The fire again?”
My breath catches. I’ve never told him, or anyone, about my nightmares, not the details, anyway.
“Yeah,” I admit, the word barely audible.
For a moment, he just looks at me. Then, without warning, he reaches out and pulls me against his chest. His arms wrap around me, strong and secure, one hand cradling the back of my head. His body is warm, his heartbeat steady against my cheek, and something in me just… surrenders.
I melt into him, letting my forehead rest against him. My arms stay tangled under my blanket, but I don’tfeeltrapped.
I feel… safe.
Protected and understood.
“You’re safe,” he murmurs into my hair, and unlike when I said those exact words to myself earlier, I almost believe them now. There’s something about Axel—for all his wildness, his unpredictability—that makes me feel secure.
Like nothing bad can touch me when he’s near.
His hand moves in slow circles on my back, and I realize I’m breathing in sync with him, my chest rising and falling against his.
“How’d you know I was out here?” I ask, my voice muffled against his skin.
I feel rather than see his shrug. “Heard the door. Smelled you.”
I pull back just enough to look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Creepy much?”
That gets me a genuine smile, teeth flashing white in the darkness. “You smell good,” he says, unapologetic.
His fingers brush a strand of hair from my face, and they linger, just for a moment, against my cheek. Our eyes lock as his thumb traces a small circle on my cheekbone.
“The stars are out for you tonight,” he says, his voice rougher. He looks up at the sky, then back at me. “Almost as bright as your eyes.”
It’s such an un-Axel-like thing to say that I almost laugh. But the intensity in his gaze stops me.
“Come with me,” he says suddenly, his hand finding mine. “We’re sleeping in the shed tonight.”
“The shed?” I ask, but I’m letting him lead me away from the house, across the yard, and toward the tree line where his small shed stands.
“You’ll feel safe in there,” he says.
I hesitate. Axel’s murdery weapon shed is not exactly what I need right now.
