The small device burned in your palm. A simple press of the button, and he would come. Would he?

Your fingers trembled as you pressed the button on the small pager Aaron had given you. Once. Twice. Three times. You didn’t know what to expect—if he would even come. If you were overreacting.

The walls of the room felt like they were closing in, the unfamiliar shadows stretching toward you as your breath turned shallow. Your mind screamed at you to move, but your body refused.

And then—

A deafening crack split the air.

The door crashed open with a force so violent it splintered against the wall, the lock snapping like brittle glass.

Warner stood in the wreckage, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, green eyes wild as they locked onto her. His hands were clenched, tension rippling through his body as if he was ready to tear apart whatever—or whoever—had dared to make you feel unsafe.

“{{user}}.” His voice was sharp, urgent.

You barely managed a whisper.

In an instant, he was across the room, his hands framing your face, scanning your for injuries. His touch was gentle despite the storm in his eyes. “What happened? Who hurt you?”

She shook her head, her breath uneven.

His jaw tightened, but his arms were already around you, pulling you into his warmth. “I’d rather you press that button a thousand times for nothing,” he murmured into your hair, voice low, “than once when you actually need me.”

Your fingers curled into his shirt, grounding yourself in him. He was here. Safe. Always.

And Warner—he only held you closer, like he would never let go.