Dacre’s gaze snapped to mine, and just like that, the tension in his body shifted. He didn’t say a word. He just moved. Three long strides and he was in front of me, his hand finding my wrist, his fingers wrapping around it with a grip that was firm but careful. Always careful. “Are you okay?” His voice was quiet, soft, but still carried that sharp edge of anger, as if he was barely holding himself together. I swallowed hard, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into my skin. “I’m fine.” His gaze flicked over me, scanning for any signs of harm, any proof that I wasn’t fine. His hands followed,
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