Ayla's POV
She looked around again, taking in the masculine furniture, the books lining the walls, the weapons mounted above the fireplace, the personal touches that made this space unmistakably mine.
And her, in the middle of it all. In my bed.
"You're safe," I repeated, needing her to understand that. "Elena's here. Nothing bad will happen to you, I promise."
She nodded slowly, but I could see the questions forming in her eyes. Questions I wasn't sure I could answer without revealing too much. Questions about why I'd brought her to my home instead of the infirmary. Why I was looking at her like that. Why being in my space felt natural instead of wrong.
Elena stood gracefully. "I should go. Let you two... talk." The way she said it made it clear she meant something other than talking
