The silence after Dominic left felt louder than his shouting.
It rang in Emma’s ears.
Sharp.
Endless.
Her knees nearly gave out beneath her.
If Rowan Blackwood hadn’t been there—
she would have fallen.
His hands tightened around her waist.
Steadying.
Warm.
Solid.
Real.
Emma inhaled sharply.
Her breath trembled on the way out.
Rowan’s hand moved from her waist to her jaw.
Gentle.
Careful.
His thumb brushed softly beneath her cheek.
“Emma.”
His voice was quieter now.
No ice.
No threat.
Only her name.
She looked up.
And the anger in his face nearly undid her.
Not anger at her.
Anger for her.
“Did he ever hurt you?”
The question settled heavily between them.
Emma laughed softly.
Broken.
Humorless.
She looked away.
“Not like that.”
Rowan’s jaw clenched.
Hard.
