Sleep was impossible.
The room was dark, quiet except for the steady rhythm of Adrian's breathing beside me. He lay on his back, rigid, like rest was a discipline he refused to practice.
"You're awake," he said quietly.
"So are you."
A pause. Then—honesty, raw and unguarded.
"I don't know how to do this," he admitted.
I turned toward him. "Do what?"
"Care," he said. "Without control. Without leverage." His voice lowered. "You terrify me."
The words struck deeper than any command ever had. Adrian Blackwood—unshakeable, ruthless—was afraid.
"Because I could lose you," he continued. "Or worse—lose myself trying to protect you."
I reached for his hand. He stiffened, then allowed it, his fingers curling around mine like it was an anchor.
"You're already not the man you were," I whispered.
"That's what scares me."
He turned to face me then, eyes dark, stripped bare of calculation. "I've ended men for less than what they threatened tonight," he said. "And all I could think about was getting back to you."
Emotion tightened my throat. "Adrian…"
"I don't want power if it costs this," he said quietly. "If it costs you."
The silence between us throbbed, heavy with everything unsaid. Slowly—carefully—he lifted his hand to my face, giving me time to stop him. I didn't.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured.
I shook my head.
The kiss was slow. Controlled. Nothing like the fire it could have been. His lips brushed mine like he was memorizing permission, like he was afraid of breaking something fragile.
Then it deepened—just enough for his breath to hitch, for my heart to race. No hunger. No claiming. Just truth.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.
"That," he said hoarsely, "changes everything."
"Yes," I replied. "But I don't regret it."
Neither did he. I saw it in the way his control cracked—not violently, but quietly—like a man choosing to feel instead of dominate.
He wrapped an arm around me then, protective, careful, real.
"Sleep," he said softly. "I've got you."
And for the first time since stepping into his world, I believed him—not because of his power, but because he'd finally laid it down.