After returning home from their training session, a storm came without warning.
One moment, the sky was a dull gray, the air thick and humid. The next, thunder cracked through the night, sending a deep, rumbling vibration through the vast estate. The rain followed in violent sheets, slamming against the windows, the wind howling like a wounded beast.
Anastasia sat curled on the corner of the oversized couch in her suite, the book in her lap long forgotten.
She hated storms.
Not because of the rain or the sound, but because they reminded her of the nights when she was younger—when the roof of her father's crumbling estate would leak, when the cold would seep into her bones, when the thunder would shake the walls so violently she thought the whole house would come crashing down.
She thought she had grown past it.
But tonight, as the sky roared, she realized she hadn't.
The estate was vast and empty at this hour. The servants had long since retired, and the house, despite its grandeur, felt too big when she was alone.
A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the room in stark white, followed immediately by a boom so powerful she jolted, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Then—
The lights flickered.
Anastasia's breath caught.
And then—darkness.
A full blackout.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Her hands clenched around the fabric of her dress, her body coiled tight.
Another roll of thunder cracked through the sky, shaking the walls.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her heartbeat to slow.
It was just a storm.
Just a—
A sound outside the door.
She froze.
Her pulse spiked as heavy footsteps approached.
The door creaked open, and the air shifted.
Even without the lights, she knew who it was.
Leonidas.
His silhouette filled the doorway, his presence swallowing the room whole.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Another flash of lightning cut through the darkness, and she saw him watching her.
Her breath hitched.
She should have said something.
Should have asked why he was here.
But her voice wouldn't come.
Instead, the next boom of thunder sent a sharp tremor through her body, and without thinking—she flinched.
His eyes narrowed.
And then—he moved.
With gentle deliberate steps.
In three strides, he was in front of her.
Before she could even process it, he crouched down, his hands bracing on either side of her on the couch, protectively.
Anastasia sucked in a sharp breath.
He was too close.
Even in the darkness, she could make out the angles of his face—the sharp jawline, the shadows that clung to his cheekbones, the quiet intensity in his gaze.
"You're afraid," he said.
It wasn't a question.
She looked away quickly. "No, I—"
Another roll of thunder cracked through the sky, and despite herself, she tensed.
Leonidas' eyes flickered.
And then, in the kind of motion that felt dangerous, he lifted a hand—slowly—and pressed it against the side of her face.
She froze.
His palm was warm, solid, covering her cheek effortlessly.
She couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
"You flinch at storms," he murmured, voice lower now. "Why?"
She swallowed hard. "I... I don't like them."
His thumb brushed against her cheekbone.
"You're lying."
Her stomach twisted.
Why was he doing this?
Why was he touching her like this?
She felt small beneath his gaze. Fragile.
Like he could see everything.
She exhaled shakily. "I just—I don't like feeling trapped."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Leonidas stilled.
For a moment, he didn't say anything.
And then—softly—
"You're not trapped, Anastasia."
She let out a bitter laugh. "Aren't I?"
Something dark flickered in his gaze.
His fingers flexed slightly against her skin, but he didn't let go.
Instead, he studied her—really studied her—as if he was seeing something he hadn't noticed before.
And then, just as quietly—
"You don't have to be afraid of me."
The words sent an unexpected shiver down her spine.
Because the problem wasn't fear.
The problem was that, for the first time in her life, she didn't know what scared her more—
The storm outside.
Or the man in front of her.
Because when Leonidas looked at her like this—like she was something he wanted to protect—