Sebastian's POV
It was well past midnight. Silence blanketed the estate, heavy and absolute. The kind of silence only power can buy. A fortress built on blood and fear sleeps soundly.
So when I heard it—the panicked, frantic knocking on my door—I knew something was wrong.
No one ever knocks on this door. Hell, no one even walks this corridor unless they want to disappear.
I was already halfway to the handle when it hit again—sharp, wild, desperate. My hand froze for a heartbeat, my instinct kicking in.
Ambush? Attack?
I opened the door with force and precision—
And saw her.
Ray.
Barefoot. In an oversized shirt. Eyes wide, soaked with tears, chest heaving, fists trembling like leaves in a storm.
The moment she saw me, something inside her broke.
"Seb," she whispered, and then—before I could even speak—she threw herself into my chest, arms wrapping around me like I was the only thing keeping her from shattering.
"Seb… Seb, please don't go. Don't leave me. I saw him—he was there—my stepdad—he said I'm not allowed to be happy—he said he'll come back—he'll bring other men—he said he'll hurt me—hit me—touch me—make me let them—please, Seb—please—don't leave me—don't leave me—"
She was sobbing now. Raw, broken sobs that tore through my ribs like bullets.
And she called me Seb.
Not sir. Not Blake. Not "hey you" like she sometimes joked with Kai.
Seb.
No one calls me that. Not even the men who owe me their lives. My name is a threat. A warning. An execution sentence.
But to her, in that moment, it was a lifeline.
I wrapped my arms around her. Slowly. Carefully. As if she might dissolve. She was trembling so violently, I could feel it echo in my bones.
"I've got you," I whispered. "You're safe. He's not here."
"But what if he finds me again?" she choked out. "What if he comes back and—Seb, I can't do it again. I can't—"
"He won't," I said. Firm. Certain. Dangerous.
Because if that bastard even breathes in her direction, I will tear apart the entire planet to find him. I will burn kingdoms to salt. I will slit throats in daylight and sleep just fine after.
She buried her face deeper into my chest, clutching my shirt like a terrified child. My hands instinctively moved—one to her back, rubbing slow circles, the other cradling the back of her head.
Her long hair tangled against my fingers, still damp from sweat and tears.
"Breathe with me, Ray," I said quietly. "Just breathe."
And slowly, she did. One ragged inhale. One trembling exhale. Then another.
And another.
She was still crying. But the panic was dulling now. Her grip loosening, just slightly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know where else to go. I just—I saw your door and I—"
"You did right," I said, cutting her off. "You came to me. That's all that matters."
There was a silence then. Thick. Fragile.
And then: "You're warm."
I didn't know what to say to that.
She was still holding onto me. Still hiding. But her voice was smaller now. Sleepier. Like the terror was slowly slipping into exhaustion.
I carried her inside.
Didn't care about rules. Didn't care that no one enters my room. That I don't let anyone see me vulnerable.
She was different.
She needed me.
And for once—I wanted to be needed.
She fell asleep curled against me on the sofa, clutching the sleeve of my shirt like a safety net.
And I sat there, in the dark, watching over her, jaw clenched, hands aching.
If he comes back, I won't just kill him.
I'll erase him from existence.
No grave. No name. No memory.
She's mine to protect now.
Even if she never calls me "Seb" again… I'll never forget how it sounded.
Like I was more than a monster.