Page 26 of Nansar
But he hadn't let go. He'd pulled me against his broad chest and held me there while I raged and sobbed and fought. He'd said nothing, offered no words of comfort, just held me in an unbreakable grip until my terror had nowhere left to go but through me and out the other side.
And when the storm finally passed, when I'd collapsed against him exhausted and empty, I'd realized that the thing I'd fought hardest against was exactly what I'd needed most. Not freedom from his touch, but the safety of knowing someone was strong enough to hold me together when I was falling apart.
I wanted to be that someone for Chloe.
I pulled her into my arms with careful strength, wrapping her trembling form against my chest. She erupted—screaming, thrashing, her fists hammering against me with the desperate strength of a cornered animal.
“Let me go! Please, please let me go! I don’t like to be touched!"
Each word was a knife to the chest, but I held firm.
"I know," I murmured, keeping my grip steady but achingly gentle. "I know, little one. But you're safe now. I promise you're safe with me."
She kept fighting, kept sobbing, her words fragmenting into raw, incoherent sounds that tore through the clearing. I absorbed it all—her terror, her rage, her anguish—letting her spend herself against the shelter of my body. My horns blazed with heat, whether from the violence still singing in my veins or from the feel of her soft form pressed against me, I couldn't say. The sensations bled together into something overwhelming, something that threatened to undo me completely.
Gradually, heartbreakingly slowly, her struggles weakened. The screams dissolved into desperate sobs, then fractured whimpers. Her fists unclenched, fingers clutching at my vest instead of striking, gripping the fabric like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. She was still crying, but the wild hysteria had burned itself out, leaving behind something rawer, more broken, more achingly real.
"I've got you," I whispered against her hair, one hand cradling the back of her head with a tenderness I hadn't known lived inside me. "You're safe now."
She made a small, wounded sound that pierced straight through my chest. Then she pressed her face against my shoulder, burrowing into me as though trying to disappear from the world entirely. Her whole body trembled with quiet sobs,but she was leaning into me now, not fighting. Seeking comfort instead of escape.
My horns pulsed hotter still, the sensation impossible to ignore or deny. I couldn't control it, couldn't stop the way my body responded to having her in my arms, to the powerful protectiveness that roared through my blood like wildfire.
Whether I liked it or not, whether I was ready or not, something fundamental had shifted between us in these few terrible, transformative moments.
And there was no going back.
Chapter 9
Chloe
Being held by Nansar felt... comforting. The realization struck me like lightning, sudden and illuminating, making my heart stutter against my ribs.
My FBI therapist had suggested something similar after I'd been rescued. Desensitization therapy, she'd called it. Gradual exposure to touch in a safe, controlled environment. Building up tolerance slowly, reclaiming my body as my own rather than something that could be violated at will.
I'd tried. God, how I'd tried. But after everything, I couldn't bear anyone touching me. Not the well-meaning therapist with her gentle hands and softer voice. Not even a handshake felt safe. Every touch was a threat, every contact a potential trap. My skin would crawl, my stomach would twist into knots, and panic would claw its way up my throat until I had to flee, gasping and shaking like a wounded animal.
I'd given up after one session.
Yet here I was, wrapped in the arms of an alien warrior twice my size, and instead of panic... I felt safe. Protected.
"I'm so sorry," he murmured against my hair, his deep voice rumbling through his chest, the vibration resonating through my bones like the purr of some great cat. "Those prisoners should never have gotten to you. I should never have left you alone."
His arms tightened around me, protective but not constraining, and I felt every muscle in his body, the tension thrumming beneath his skin like a bowstring pulled taut.
The image flashed through my mind unbidden—Nansar appearing like some avenging angel, his face a mask of cold, terrible fury as he'd torn those two prisoners away from me. There had been no hesitation in his movements, no moment of doubt or mercy. Just swift, brutal efficiency. The crack of bone, the wet sounds I was trying very hard not to think about, and then... silence.
He'd killed them. Two lives ended in heartbeats, without a word spoken.
I should have been horrified. Traumatized all over again by the violence, by the blood, by the sheer savageness of it all.
But all I felt was... grateful. Safe. Like someone had finally stood between me and the monsters, had finally said "enough" and meant it with action rather than empty words and hollow promises.
"It's not your fault," I said quietly, my voice still trembling from the adrenaline crash.
"It is." His tone was firm, unyielding as stone. "I should have stayed with you, or brought you with me when I went for water."
A pause stretched between us, heavy and weighted with unspoken things, then his voice softened with genuine confusion. "But Chloe... why did you leave the trees? You were safe there. Hidden."
