Leonard finally reached his quarters. He paused before the door, tilting his head slightly as he strained to catch any sound from within. Soft, uneven snores reached him—too close to the door. A faint frown creased his brow. Did she not sleep on the bed?
His fingers closed around the knob, and he twisted it carefully before easing the door open. The sight that greeted him deepened the frown on his face.
Dydra lay asleep on the rugged floor, only a few inches from where he stood. His coat was draped over her slight frame, serving as a makeshift cover. She was still wearing the same clothes from the previous night. Leonard's lips pressed into a thin line. She had ignored him. The realization irritated him more than it should have.
He stepped fully into the room and shut the door behind him. Lowering himself, he slid one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back, careful to keep the coat in place over her bare upper body. She stirred slightly but did not wake. He carried her to the bed and laid her down gently.
The moment she touched the silk sheets, she relaxed completely, melting into the mattress. Her hands moved unconsciously, fumbling until they found the covers, which she tugged over herself.
A small, unguarded smile curved Leonard's lips as he studied her. Her mouth was delicate, heart-shaped, the contrast of dark upper lip and soft pink lower lip striking against her skin. Her nose was small, almost button-like. Faint freckles dusted her cheeks, subtle against her dark complexion. Her red hair was a tangled mess, strands clinging to her forehead and cheek. Thick lashes rested against her skin, and he recalled the vivid blue of her eyes. As she slept, her usual wariness was gone, replaced by a fragile calm.
Then she whimpered.
Her brow furrowed deeply, her breathing turning uneven as sweat broke across her skin. A nightmare had taken hold of her. Leonard stiffened, instantly alert.
Her body trembled as tears spilled from beneath her lashes. Whatever she saw in her dreams had her trapped—helpless. Leonard sat down beside her, his movements quick but uncertain. For the first time in a long while, he did not know what to do. His hands hovered over her, hesitating.
Anger flared—not at her, but at himself. He always had an answer, always a solution. Yet now, when it mattered most, his mind was empty.
Her sobs grew harsher.
Acting on instinct alone, Leonard drew her into his arms and gently rested her head against his thighs, ensuring the sheets still covered her upper body. One hand cupped her cheek, stroking softly, the other resting at his side. It was the only thing he could think of—something his mother used to do whenever his own nights were haunted.
Slowly, the tension left her body. Her breathing steadied. The tears stopped. Leonard felt the shift in her heartbeat and knew she was waking.
Her lashes fluttered open, her watery blue eyes struggling to focus. The first thing she noticed was the bed beneath her. Panic seized her chest. She bolted upright, the covers slipping down her back.
Her hands flew to her chest as she clutched the sheets tightly, her breathing frantic. Her mind was fogged with fear, unable to separate dream from reality. Tears poured freely as she curled inward, shaking.
Leonard snapped out of his daze when he heard her sobs. The sound struck him harder than expected.
"Dydra," he said softly.
Her body went rigid at the sound of a man's voice behind her. Terror exploded through her veins.
She screamed.
She scrambled toward the edge of the bed, but the sheets tangled around her legs. She thrashed blindly, eyes squeezed shut, her movements only worsening the mess. Leonard leaned forward instinctively, and in her panic, her foot snagged on the open front of his shirt. The fabric tugged sharply, buttons scattering as the garment fell open.
At the same moment, her eyes flew open.
She froze.
Before her was a man leaning toward her, his shirt undone, too close—too real.
She screamed again. "Please—don't hurt me! I beg you!"
She clutched the covers to her chest and lurched to her feet, moving with frantic, unsteady steps. She reached the edge of the bed and jumped—
Her knees struck the hardwood.
She hit the floor hard, the breath knocked from her lungs.