Comfort.

The one damn thing that Rhys Larsen was incapable of mastering. The one thing he’d never fully understood.

Yet it was instinct when it came to you.

The moment he saw you, tears threatening to spill and your body racked with shivers, all rational thoughts fled.

Without a word, his hands slipped around your waist, bringing you in as his whispers breezed gently into your ears, sweet nothings and reassuring words.

“I’m here, princess. You’re okay.”