Scarlet's Perspective
I was barely aware of the world around me as I collapsed into Leo's arms. The remnants of my escape—bloodstained, bruised, and exhausted—seemed to disappear in the warmth of his embrace. I could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his arms hesitated around me for a moment, as if unsure of what to do. It wasn't an entirely unfamiliar sensation, but for once, it felt different. For once, Leo didn't seem like the cold, disdainful Duke everyone thought him to be.
(Why am I getting emotional suddenly, it feels strange, feels like I am forgetting something.)
His hands, rough and warm, settled on my back, and I buried my face against his chest. I had been kidnapped, held hostage by men who had no care for life or reason. I had fought, I had struggled, but in the end, it was Leo—Leo, of all people—who had come to my rescue.
