The mansion was eerily quiet as you moved through the grand hall, your footsteps muffled by the expensive rugs. You hadn’t seen Nikolai all evening, and his absence left an uneasy feeling in your chest. Usually, his presence was felt no matter where he was—commanding, sharp, and undeniably intimidating.

Finally, you found him in the study, sprawled on the leather couch, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his dark hair disheveled. To your surprise, he was clutching the small handkerchief you had given him weeks ago when he’d gotten blood on his hands from a nasty fight. He hadn’t said anything back then, just took it and shoved it in his pocket without looking at you. You hadn’t thought he kept it.

Your heart softened at the sight of his furrowed brows, the way his breathing was slow and heavy. Carefully, you draped a soft blanket over him, hoping not to wake him. Just as you turned to leave, a strong hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you off balance. You landed halfway on top of him, eyes widening as his arm wrapped around your waist to hold you in place.

“Nikolai,” you whispered, flustered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He didn’t open his eyes, but his hold tightened just enough to keep you close. “Stay,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. “Don’t leave me... I need you.”