Thalina felt every shuddering breath he took, every tremble in his arms as he clung to her like a drowning man. His grip was desperate—too tight, almost painful, but she didn't pull away. She couldn't.
Not when he was breaking right in front of her.
"I thought I lost you," he rasped, his voice raw with grief. His fingers curled into the fabric of her dress at her waist. "I thought you were gone. I searched—" A shaky breath. "I searched everywhere, but there was nothing. No sign. No scent. Not even a single trace."
Thalina shut her eyes, her heart aching as she rested her hand against the back of his head.
His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead, and his skin burned against her touch. He wasn't just drunk. He was exhausted—mentally, physically, completely drained.
"I know," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him.
