Because at this rate, she’d be alone forever.

* * *

Bronx heardthe first sob coming from Percy’s room and walked slowly to her door. As he placed his ear against the door, her cries grew louder and more intense, until she was gasping for air.

He placed his hand on the doorknob and hesitated. She deserved her privacy. He needed to prove Stonefire was different from her former prison and that she had control over who could enter her room.

And yet, as her sobs turned heart-wrenching, almost as if she were dying, he made the decision to check on her.

He knocked, but nothing. “Percy?”

Still nothing.

Each of her cries shot straight to his heart. If she kept it up, she’d make herself sick.

His dragon said,If her health is in danger or there’s a risk of her dragon coming out and going rogue, we need to check on her. We are nothing like the bastards who imprisoned her. We care about her.

Bolstered by his dragon’s words, he entered the room. Instantly, his gaze latched on to Percy sitting on the bed, tears streaming down her face and her arms wrapped around her torso, as if she were clinging for dear life.

She was in pain, so much pain, and he couldn’t leave her alone without trying to ease it.

Bronx walked slowly toward the bed, ready to back away if needed. But Percy didn’t notice him. Eventually, he sat next to her, and she still didn’t so much as flinch or raise her head.

She just kept saying, “I’m alone,” over and over again.

Percy looked so lost, sad, and broken. All he wanted to do was hug her close, stroke her hair, and murmur he was there and he’d help her in any way he could. All she had to do was ask.

And yet, he stayed in place. She’d been fragile even before this breakdown. Would him touching her send her into a panic or bring back all those memories and make the situation a hell of a lot worse?

His dragon spoke up.She’s hurting and sobbing about being alone. I say try. Even if she grew up more like a human, dragon-shifters like touch and affection. And even if she balks, we’ll need to get her calmed down and call the doctor.

His dragon was right. However, he would try talking to her first. “Percy? It’s me, Bronx. Tell me what’s wrong, love.”

She didn’t seem to hear him, only hugged herself tighter and hiccupped as she continued to cry.

The picture wrenched his heart nearly in two. “You’re not alone, Percy. I’m here, and Violet will return soon, and the both of us can help you.”

More crying.

He took a deep breath. “I’m going to touch you now, Percy, okay? If you don’t calm down soon, love, you might make yourself sick. And I can’t bear it.”

She was still lost in her grief, anger, or whatever was making her fall apart.

He gingerly placed a hand on her shoulder. When she didn’t react at all, he squeezed her gently. “Percy, oh, Percy, tell me what’s wrong.”

He moved his hand down to her upper arm, where her dragon-shifter tattoo should’ve been, and rubbed up and down. “I’m here when you’re ready, Percy. I won’t go until you tell me how I can help.”

For a few seconds, he merely rubbed her arm in a soothing motion. Then suddenly, she turned toward him and buried herself against his side.

He blinked and then slowly, oh-so-slowly, wrapped his arms around her. Instead of tensing, she melted more against him.

Murmuring soothing words, he rubbed circles on her back. He didn’t know how long he did that, but slowly, her sobs lessened, and eventually, she was quiet.

He tried to unwrap his arms to let her up, but she whispered, “No. Don’t.”

As she hugged his torso, he held her slight form tighter against him.

They sat that way for a long while, and the longer they did, the more it felt right to embrace her, to support her, and to let her know she didn’t have to be strong all the time. It was okay to show weakness, to break down and release the emotions she’d kept bottled up for so long.