Page 148 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
I try to breathe through it.
It doesn’t work.
Everything feels too tight.
Too heavy.
Too wrong.
And then something shifts.
Warmth. Solid. Wrapped around me. Not the cold hard floor. Not restraints.
The scent hits first.
Familiar.
Deep.
Grounding.
It cuts through the panic before it can take hold properly, something instinctive in me latching onto it before I even fully understand why.
My fingers twitch weakly where they’re pressed against something warm, something solid, something that moves with me instead of against me.
Elijah.
The name forms before I can say it.
My throat feels dry, unused, the word catching as I try to push it out.
“Elijah…”
It barely comes out.
A breath more than a word.
But it’s enough.
Everything around me shifts instantly.
The arm around me tightens, not enough to hurt, just enough to anchor, to hold, and then there’s movement, fast and sudden in contrast to everything else still dragging behind.
His head lifts. I feel it before I see it. Then his face is there. His eyes searching mine like he’s trying to make sure I’m real.
“Angel?”
His voice is rough.
Not just tired.
Worn.
Like something has been scraped raw.
I blink slowly, trying to focus on him, trying to hold onto the fact that he’s here, that this is real and not something my mind is giving me because it doesn’t want to go back to...
“Elijah…” I say again, and this time it comes out clearer, even as it shakes.
