Fiona's POV
The war room buzzed with lingering tension even as people dispersed. Sebastian's hand never left my arm as he guided me upstairs, his grip firm but not harsh. I knew he wasn't just angry—he was worried. It was written all over his face, though he'd never admit it.
Once we reached his office, he shut the door and leaned against it, his piercing eyes studying me.
"You're not going to yell at me again, are you?" I asked, crossing my arms.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he quickly masked it with a sigh. "No yelling. Just… trying to understand what the hell you were thinking out there."
"I was thinking that I'm capable, Sebastian," I shot back. "I wasn't about to stand by and let Stella handle everything alone."
He closed the distance between us, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders. "I know you're strong. I've seen it. But that doesn't mean I don't worry about you."
