Page 160 of Wicked Savage

CILLIAN

I've been awake for hours, simply content to watch Dinara sleep. I meant every word I said to her, and having her here means at least some part of her believed me. That’s enough.

Reaching out, I brush a stray strand of hair from her cheek. She stirs, a soft groan escaping her lips. I curse myself for nearly waking her and pull my hand back, forcing myself to settle. But just as I close my eyes, her voice cuts through the silence.

“Stop.”

The word is faint, barely above a whisper, but laced with panic.

My body tenses.

She murmurs it again, louder this time, and my pulse hammers in my ears. Still asleep, she cries out, her face twisting in pain.

What the hell?

“Please,” she begs. “Don't...”

Terror threads through her, and something inside me snaps. A switch flips, the violent need to protect her surging to the surface. Whoever did this—whoever put that fear in her voice—will pay.

“Mom! No!” she calls out.

My hand gently caresses her arm, trying to wake her, but the sound of her distress only intensifies.

“Shh.” I move in closer, wrapping my arms around her, inhaling the floral scent of her hair as I tighten my grasp, letting her feel me, letting her know she’s safe. “You’re okay, baby. I’m here.”

With a sharp gasp, her lids snap open, her chest rising and falling in frantic breaths.

She’s not fully awake, not yet, and the confusion in her gaze only breaks me further. She doesn’t even see me at first.

“Dinara?” I let her go for a moment.

When she finally faces me, her expression is full of fear, and tears are clinging to her lower lashes. “What happened?”

“You were having a nightmare.”

She wipes her eyes quickly, as if just realizing she’s crying. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

She sits up when I do, glancing down at herself as though embarrassed.

“Hey, no.” I shake my head, my thumb brushing over her hand as I take it in mine. “You didn’t wake me. And even if you had, I would want you to. I’m here, Dinara. I’m always going to be here.”

She lets out a sob, and my chest tightens at the sound. I pull her into my arms, my chest warm and solid against hers and I hold her close. She exhales a weighty sigh, pressing her cheek against me, and for a moment, we’re just here, together, wrapped up in the comfort of each other.

“Do you remember what the nightmare was about?”

She nods against me. “It’s the same one I’ve had on and off for years.”

“Wanna talk about it?” My fingers trace up her arm, the feeling of her skin making me come alive.

Her eyes meet mine, and for a brief moment, I see the trust in her gaze. Trust with whatever she has been bottling up inside.

“It’s about my father…killing my mother.” The rawness in her tone clings to every syllable, cutting straight through me. “I couldn’t stop him.”

“You were just a kid. You have to forgive yourself.”

She tugs back just slightly, her tear-filled eyes searching mine. “Have you forgiven yourself?”

Her words land hard.

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