Nicholas stirred from sleep to the faint sound of whimpering.
It took him a second to orient himself—his eyes heavy, the room still steeped in the deep hush of night. But the sound came again, sharp and raw, pulling him fully awake.
His gaze snapped to the bed.
Ella.
She was tangled in the sheets, her legs kicking faintly, her arms twitching. Her face twisted in fear as soft, desperate noises escaped her lips.
"No… please—don't…"
Nicholas was out of the chair and by her side in seconds. He crouched low, touching her shoulder gently.
"Ella," he said, voice low and steady. "Ella, it's just a dream. You're safe."
She flinched at his touch, gasping awake with a strangled cry. Her eyes flew open, wild and unseeing for a moment.
"Ella," he whispered again. "It's me. You're okay."
Her gaze found his at last, and the panic in her eyes gave way to recognition. She sat upright, clutching the sheets to her chest, her entire body trembling.
