Chapter 21
One second Victor was pulling blankets around Chloe. The next, a creature from myth stood over her in the firelight.
Hyde, fully manifested. Eight feet of raw power and inhuman strength, with skin that glowed faintly green in the darkness, muscles rippling beneath it like shifting stone.
He was magnificent, and absolutely terrifying in the most primal way—the kind of terror that lived in human DNA, screaming predator, run, hide.
Except she couldn’t run. She was seven months pregnant, naked, and wrapped in a blanket on the floor of a cabin that now had a massive tree branch sticking through its roof.
Also, she didn’t want to run, because despite his size and obvious power, Hyde wasn’t looking at her like prey.
He was looking at her like something precious he needed to protect.
His massive chest heaved with rapid breaths. Clawed hands flexed at his sides—each finger tipped with what looked like obsidian talons. His face was Victor’s but different, sharper and more angular. His eyes glowed an eerie green in the dim light, fixed on her with laser focus.
Snow swirled in through the massive hole overhead as the wind howled.
The temperature in the cabin was already dropping.
Then Hyde moved. Her heart jumped but she forced herself to stay still, to trust. He knelt beside her with surprising grace for something so large.
One huge hand reached out, paused, then gently—so gently—touched her shoulder.
He was checking to make sure she was all right.
“I’m okay,” she said. Her voice came out steadier than she felt. “Not hurt. Just cold.”
His eyes narrowed. He looked at the gaping hole in the roof, at the snow already accumulating on the floor, then back at her. A low growl rumbled in his chest, not threatening but more like… frustrated, and somehow she understood. He wanted to keep her safe.
Her heart did something complicated in her chest. Even transformed, even in the middle of what had to be a terrifying loss of control for Victor, Hyde’s first instinct was to protect her.
“Can you understand me?” she asked.
Hyde tilted his head, then nodded once.
“Okay. Good.” She pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “The cabin’s compromised but we can work with it. We need to block that hole and keep the heat in.”
Another nod. Hyde’s gaze swept the room, clearly reviewing the options.
He moved to the couch and grabbed the cushions in one massive hand, then carried them to the damaged section of roof and wedged them into the gaps around the trunk.
It wasn’t a permanent solution but it blocked most of the wind and snow. Then he turned back to her.
She couldn’t help staring. He was… incredible.
Terrifying and beautiful in equal measure.
All that leashed power moving with purpose.
Victor had been so afraid of this, so convinced Hyde was dangerous, but all she saw was someone desperate to keep her safe.
Hyde gathered more blankets from the bedroom—his movements careful despite his size, clearly mindful of not breaking anything else.
He brought them to her and started wrapping her up like she was made of glass.
“I can do it,” she protested.
He huffed and kept wrapping. She gave up and let him bundle her into what felt like every blanket in the cabin. By the time he finished she could barely move.
“Do you think I’m warm enough now?” she asked dryly.
He studied her critically, then apparently decided more was better because he grabbed the throw from the back of the couch and added it to the pile.
“I’m going to overheat,” she muttered.
Another huff, and this one almost sounded amused. Then Hyde did something that made her breath catch. He carefully—so carefully—lifted her into his arms, quilts and all, and cradled her against his massive chest like she weighed nothing.
Her heart hammered. Not from fear, but from the overwhelming gentleness of his touch.
This creature could probably bend steel.
He could certainly rip the cabin apart if he wanted.
Instead he held her like she was the most fragile thing in existence.
He carried her over and settled down near the fire, adjusting his position to shield her from any drafts.
His body radiated heat, furnace-hot against her side, and she relaxed into the warmth. She leaned against his chest and listened to the dual heartbeat there. One fast, one slow. Human and Hyde layered together.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
His arms tightened fractionally. Not enough to hurt. Just… holding. The storm raged outside but here in the cabin, wrapped in quilts and cradled against Hyde’s chest, she felt safer than she had in weeks.
Strange. Impossible. True.
She dozed off at some point, lulled by warmth and the steady rhythm of Hyde’s breathing. When she woke, the fire had burned lower but he’d clearly fed it while she slept. The cabin was still standing, still relatively warm despite the damage, and he was still holding her.
She tilted her head to look up at him. His eyes were open, glowing faintly in the darkness. Watching. Alert.
“Have you been awake this whole time?” she asked.
A small nod.
“You should rest.”
Hyde’s expression said clearly that rest wasn’t happening. Not while she needed protecting. Stubborn. Just like Victor. She shifted in his arms—awkward with the blanket cocoon—and pressed her palm to his chest. Right over that double heartbeat.
“I’m safe,” she said. “You made sure of it. You can relax.”
His eyes closed briefly. When they opened again something had shifted, some of the tension bleeding out of his massive frame.
He adjusted his hold on her, settling more comfortably, still alert but not quite so rigid.
They sat like that for what felt like hours while the storm slowly weakened outside.
The fire crackled, and his steady breathing provided a soothing counterpoint to the wind.
She dozed again and woke to find the baby kicking. His hand immediately moved to her belly, palm covering the movement. His eyes widened slightly.
“That’s the baby,” she said. “Your baby too, if you want.”
Want was too mild a word for the expression that crossed Hyde’s face. His hand stayed on her belly, reverent and protective.
“I’m sure she’s going to be a handful,” Chloe continued. “Stubborn like her parents. She’ll probably inherit your strength and my inability to back down from a challenge.”
Hyde’s chest rumbled, almost like a laugh.
“You’re going to be a great father,” she said. “Both of you.”
The rumble cut off. Hyde stared at her with those glowing green eyes.
“I mean it.” She covered his hand with hers. “Victor’s terrified he’ll turn into his father. But you—both versions of you—have been nothing but gentle with me. Even tonight, when everything went wrong, your first instinct was to protect me.”
His throat worked. No words came out but the emotion in his eyes said everything—gratitude, trust, and most of all, love.
It was all there in that inhuman gaze. Her eyes burned.
She was definitely crying now. Stupid pregnancy hormones making her weepy.
Or maybe not so stupid. Maybe just… feeling everything more intensely.
“I love you too,” she whispered. “Victor and Hyde. All of you.”
Hyde’s arms tightened, gentle but unmistakable. They stayed like that as the night slowly gave way to dawn and the storm finally broke. Weak sunlight filtered through the makeshift patch in the roof.
She stirred, stretching as much as the blanket cocoon allowed. Her back ached from the awkward position but she felt surprisingly rested.
Hyde hadn’t moved all night. Just held her. Kept her warm and safe.
“Morning,” she said.
Hyde blinked down at her. In the growing light she could see him more clearly.
He was still beautiful. Not in a conventional way—his features were too sharp, too inhuman for that—but there was a savage grace to him that took her breath away.
A raw, barely contained power, like watching a thunderstorm or a wildfire.
Dangerous and magnificent in equal measure.
“You’re beautiful,” she said.
His eyes widened. He looked almost… confused.
“I mean it.” She reached up to touch his face. His skin was warmer than human skin and the texture was slightly different. “Victor thinks you’re a monster, something to be feared and suppressed.”
He flinched, and her heart ached for him.
“But you’re not,” she said gently, stroking his cheek. “You’re part of him. The part that’s brave enough to be protective when he’s too afraid. The part that doesn’t second-guess love.”
He leaned into her touch, and his eyes drifted closed.
“I love this side of you too,” she continued. “Not in spite of what you are. Because of it.”
A shudder ran through Hyde’s massive frame. When he opened his eyes they were wet. Her heart broke and mended simultaneously. “Come here.”
She pulled his head down to her shoulder—awkward given the size difference but manageable. Hyde came willingly, folding himself around her. They stayed like that as full dawn broke and light streamed through the windows and the damaged roof. The storm was finally over.
She could feel something shifting. The air seemed to shimmer around them. Hyde’s body trembled. Muscles rippling under skin that seemed to glow brighter.
“It’s okay,” she murmured. “I’ve got you. Both of you.”
The transformation started slowly. Hyde shrinking as his bones shifted and his skin fading from green to human. She held him tightly through all of it, offering what comfort she could as Hyde gave way to Victor.
When it was over, he lay curled against her, naked and shaking. His eyes immediately went to her face.
“Chloe,” he said hoarsely. “Did I—are you—”
“I’m fine.” She cupped his face. “We’re both fine. You kept us safe all night.”
“But I lost control. I transformed completely.”
“In order to protect me.” She made him look at her. “You were never out of control. Not for a second.”
“But I—”
“Protected us. You did your next to fix the cabin and you held us all night to keep us warm.” She kissed him softly. “That’s not losing control. That’s love.”
He stared at her for a long moment, and then he kissed her back with desperate intensity, pouring everything he couldn’t say into it. When they broke apart, both breathing hard, the sun was fully up, sunlight painting the damaged cabin in shades of gold.
The storm was over.