19. Sofia #2
Maybe because the question has been burning me alive for a lot longer than I’ve realized.
I don't know when all of this began, that’s what scares me most. There should have been a moment I could point to.
A time where his being an obstacle in my way had twisted to suddenly becoming someone I didn’t want to leave my side.
I search backward through every harsh exchange, every warning that came with a locked door, where the line began to blur until I could no longer tell where resentment ended and fascination began.
I remember thinking there was no softness in him.
Now I know that is not entirely true. Treating me like both a burden and something dangerous to deal with had put a wall up between us that I never thought would come down.
Not for any reason. That wall had been easier to deal with in many ways, familiar in a strange sense.
I could rage against it, claw at it, mock it, resent every inch of it while Rowan could stand on the other side with his folded arms giving me clipped answers and pretending my anger did not touch him.
But now all of that is changing.
Being protected was supposed to be simple.
A job assigned to him by my uncle temporarily until I got my footing and the danger passed.
Until whatever ugly thing had followed Ivan home was buried and handled.
Eventually, he would leave my life the same way he entered it, suddenly, grimly, and without explanation.
That thought should bring relief, but all it does is make my stomach twist.
Because now I’m not so sure I ever want him to leave.
I need to know if I am the only one losing ground here. If I am the only one who feels the world shifting beneath my feet every time he says my name.
It’s raining harder now, the droplets coming down in sheets.
It lashes against the estate walls, turning the stone siding slick and dark, filling the quiet night with a soft roar that swallows every distant sound except the pounding of my heart.
Rain runs down Rowan’s face and gathers at his jaw before dripping onto his shirt.
Before he can pull us back toward the door we both came from, toward the light and the guards and whatever sanity we’re supposed to have left, I grab his wrist and tug him forward.
His feet stay planted on the ground. His eyes grow even more conflicted when I turn my body toward the service entrance, already calculating exactly where I’m going.
“Let’s get out of the rain,” I say softly.
For a moment, he only stares at me. I can see the war tearing through him as duty drags him one way and want pulls in the other. Ivan’s voice must be in his head now spouting out his rules and punishments, reminding him exactly what happens when he deviates from the path laid out for him.
When he slowly lifts one foot forward, relief crashes through me with such force, I almost stumble.
I lead him toward the back of the property, fingers wrapped around his wrist tightly to keep him close.
It’s ironic to believe I have any power over where this man goes, yet he follows after me as if I honestly do.
We keep close to the house’s wall where the shadows are thickest and the roofline breaks some of the downpour into narrower streams.
The spotlights from the guards stationed along the top of the wall sweep over the grounds in wide arcs, bathing the wet grass in flashes of white. Each time one passes too close, Rowan shifts closer to me, placing his body between me and the light without even seeming to think about it.
By the time we reach the service entrance, I am soaked through.
My hair clings to my face and neck and my clothes are heavy against my body.
The door squeaks loudly when Rowan wrenches it open.
I duck through quickly when he ushers me in with a nod of his chin and find myself in the narrow service entrance that smells damp and earthy.
The light is dim, a single bulb flickering farther down the hall. The air inside is cooler than I expect, but still warmer than the rain. Rowan steps in after me and pulls the door shut behind us until there is only a crack of light showing from the floodlights bathing the grounds.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. Rain pounds against the stone and metal like thousands of impatient fingers demanding entry. Water drips from my coat onto the floor, causing a small puddle to form between us, spreading slowly across the old tile like spilled ink.
When he finally turns to me, his jaw clenches so hard, I hear the faint grind of teeth.
“I’m weak when it comes to you,” he admits, his voice hoarse.
My eyes widen at him.
Rowan looks furious with himself for saying it, for suddenly allowing himself to become this vulnerable.
His shoulders are rigid, his hands flexing at his sides while his entire body seems caught between advancing and retreating.
The ruthless enforcer who makes the other guards at this estate pale simply by walking into a room is standing in the corner, now confessing his weakness to me like this is the ugliest crime he has ever committed.
“I…” He drags in a breath roughly. “I wanted to pretend I could have something good for one night. Something real. That’s why I… that’s why I allowed myself to have you.”
My heart twists.
He looks at me then, his eyes boring into mine.
There is a touch of fear in them that he’s trying desperately to bury and failing.
“But I can’t keep doing this with you, Sofia.
Not if it puts you in harm’s way.” He shakes his head, water droplets flying to the floor.
“If Ivan finds out, I’m afraid he will do more than just punish me.
I can’t let him hurt you too because I am allowing you to keep distracting me. ”
Tears burn behind my eyes.
I understand what he’s really saying. Wanting me has become dangerous enough to alter the way he moves through this world.
I have become a fault line in the only foundation he has ever trusted to remain steady, and he would rather cut himself open than let me become the reason he fails to protect me.
I reach up and cup his face, unable to help myself, holding it between my hands.
His skin is cold beneath my touch. Rain trails down his cheeks, slipping over the faint traces of bruising still coloring his skin.
My thumbs trace over them carefully, brushing back the droplets one by one as if I can wipe away the storm inside him and the handprints left by Ivan and every other order that made the man standing in front of me now hesitate.
“Rowan…”
His eyes close briefly when I say his name.
His hands come up to wrap around my wrists. Rough thumbs brush along the insides of my wrists and come to rest over my pulse points. I know he can feel how fast my heart is beating, and I wonder if he knows it is beating for him.
“You are the only thing that’s ever made me question everything,” he whispers.
I swallow around the lump forming in my throat.
His grip tightens around my wrists, though not enough to hurt.
He uses it to anchor himself. “You are the only person who’s ever made me want more than the life I was given.
And that terrifies me. Because if I let myself have you, I will follow you.
I will walk away from the only life I’ve ever known. ”
When he opens his eyes again, they are glassy.
“I don’t know who I am without him.” Rowan’s eyes widen slightly as if he didn’t confess something like that out loud. But he doesn’t take it back. He just stares at me, exposed in a way I’ve never seen him before.
For once, I don’t see Ivan’s blade. I see the man who was made into one and left broken because of it.
I want him more than I ever have before.
Not because he is broken, but because he is finally letting me see the real him.
The man behind the armor he wears as a familiar comfort.
The person who encourages me to open myself up just as fiercely, even with the world shifting the balance around us at every turn.
I pull him down and kiss him. Not with the same desperate hunger we shared in the kitchen that quickly turned feverish and all-consuming until reality dragged us apart.
This is slow, reverent in a way. He exhales softly against my mouth before tilting his own to deepen the kiss.
His lips move against mine with a tenderness that makes my knees weak.
His hands slide from my wrists down to my waist, fingers gripping soaked fabric and using it to guide me backward with a control that feels less forceful and closer to inevitability.
My back meets the stone wall behind me, the cold biting through my clothes and raising goosebumps along my spine.
Rowan follows without hesitation, pressing in close enough that the chill is chased away beneath the heat of him.
One hand remains at my waist, possessive and grounding, while the other comes up beside my head to brace against the wall, caging me in without thought.
He surrounds me from all sides, claiming me in the only way he knows how.
I melt into him, my fingers threading through his dark hair, tugging gently as the kiss grows deeper.
His tongue traces the seam of my lips, seeking entrance, and I grant it willingly.
A low groan rumbles in his chest when I arch against him, pressing my body closer, needing to feel every hard line of him against my softness.
He breaks the kiss only to trail his mouth along my jaw and down the column of my throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make me gasp.
My head falls back against the stone behind me, exposing more of my neck to him.
He takes the offering, lips and tongue worshiping my pulse point until I’m trembling.
“You have no idea what you do to me. What you continue to do,” he murmurs against my skin, voice rough with emotion.