The Heiress They Couldn’t Kill
Every movement costs more than I have left.
“Let go,” I whisper.
“No.”
The word is final.
I sag against him despite myself, my head lolling against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, maddeningly calm compared to the chaos inside me. The contrast makes my throat tighten painfully.
“You’re safe,” he says, softer now, like the words are for both of us. “I’ve got you.”
Safe.
The word feels foreign.
I laugh weakly, the sound dissolving into a cough that sends fire through my ribs. “You shouldn’t,” I murmur. “I’m trouble.”