The storm outside rattled the windows of Tannyhill, rain pounding against the glass in thick, angry sheets. The power had flickered twice already, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the house was swallowed by darkness.

Rafe paced the living room like a caged animal, running a hand through his already-messy hair. He’d been restless all day—more than usual. Something had set him off, though he wouldn’t tell me what.

“Rafe,” I said softly, standing from the couch. He barely acknowledged me, his jaw tight as he stared out the window. I walked up behind him, slipping my arms around his waist. He stiffened for a second before exhaling, leaning into my touch.

“I hate storms,” he muttered.

I rested my cheek against his back. “Why?”

“Just do.” His voice was clipped, but I knew it wasn’t meant for me. Rafe had a habit of shutting down when his mind was too loud, but I knew how to break through.

I slipped around to face him, tilting my head up to meet his stormy blue eyes. “Talk to me.”

His gaze flickered, conflicted. “I don’t know how.”

I reached for his hand, running my fingers over his knuckles. “Then don’t. Just stay here with me.”

A long pause stretched between us, filled with nothing but the sound of rain and Rafe’s uneven breathing. Then, suddenly, he pulled me in, burying his face in my hair. His grip on me was tight—desperate, almost. Like he was afraid to let go.

“I love you,” he murmured, barely audible over the storm.

I smiled against his chest. “I know.”

We stayed like that as the storm raged on, the world outside a chaotic mess. But in his arms, I felt safe.