"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Sullivan asked, his voice trembling as he led Dahlia into the room.
"No," she replied softly, shaking her head. "I ran away before he could do anything to me." Her voice was steady, though the faint quiver betrayed the fear she had felt. "You should rest. Let me prepare the bed for you," she added, turning to leave, but Sullivan grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his arms.
His embrace was fierce as he pressed her tightly against him. Burying his face in her hair, he breathed in her natural fragrance, grounding himself in her presence. "I was terrified, Lia," he whispered. "When I found out you were gone, I thought something horrible had happened to you. Every moment you were missing felt like torture. I thought I'd lost you forever."
