19. Raven

Chapter 19

Raven

M y eyes flew open, a gasp tearing from my throat as if I'd been dragged from the depths of the ocean up into the biting air. My heart thundered, its rapid beats echoing in the quiet of the night like a drum of war signaling an unseen danger.

It was just a dream.

But my body didn't seem to agree. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, leaving my limbs tingling and my mind racing. I blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the lingering images that clung to my consciousness like cobwebs. It took precious seconds for me to recognize the familiar contours of my room as they emerged from the shroud of darkness.

The shadows seemed to press in on me from all sides, each one a potential hiding spot for the threats that haunted my waking hours. I strained my ears for any sound out of place, any hint that my nightmare breached the threshold of reality.

My hand reached out instinctively for the bedside lamp, my fingers fumbling for the switch. With a soft click, a pool of light washed over the room, banishing the shadows to the corners where they belonged. But even bathed in the warm glow, my pulse refused to slow.

My gaze darted from one corner of the room to another. Each piece of furniture was exactly where it should be; the heavy curtains were drawn tight, no sliver of light from the outside world creeping in. It was the same room I had meticulously checked before going to bed, the same haven I fortified against those who sought to harm me.

Safe. Everything is okay .

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, muscles tensing as I prepared to rise. The plush carpet embraced my feet, the fibers yielding softly under my weight. A silent vow coiled within me, a promise to face whatever darkness might try to encroach upon my peace. With each step, my determination solidified, guiding my movements as I crept toward the door. My eyes searched for any anomalies in the familiar landscape of my room. Every shadow became a potential warning, every creak a possible whisper of threat. My hand reached out, fingers grazing the cool surface of the door, my touch as tentative as it was resolute. I listened, straining against the silence, for anything that didn't belong in the night's quiet symphony.

Nothing is out of place.

My hand hesitated on the doorknob, pulse a rapid staccato against the quiet of the night. I turned it slowly, inch by inch, the faint click of the latch releasing, sending a jolt through my taut nerves. The door swung open with a soft creak, and I peered out into the dimly lit hallway, shadows clinging to the corners like specters.

Easy, you're not alone.

"Raven?" Jerome's voice cut through the silence just before his figure appeared, rounding the corner.

"Jerome!" The name escaped me in a startled yelp, body jerking back at the sight of him. His shadow loomed large against the walls, his formidable form outlined by the scant light filtering in from the moonlit windows.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"Startle me? I nearly had a heart attack."

"Are you okay?" he asked, stepping closer, the concern evident in his eyes despite the stoic set of his jaw.

"Fine, just... a rough wake-up call. What are you doing up?"

"Routine check," Jerome answered, though his gaze lingered on my face for a moment longer than necessary, as if searching for signs of distress beyond the initial scare.

"Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Nothing so far. But I'll keep looking until we're sure everything's secure."

"I don't know what I'd do without you here."

"Let's hope we never have to find out," he replied, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jerome didn't miss a beat. His eyes darted around the shadowy confines of the hallway, a silent predator on the hunt for any sign of danger. The intensity that radiated from him was palpable, his military-honed instincts kicking into high gear. It was as if he could cut through the darkness itself, analyzing every creak and whisper of the night with a calm precision that was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

"Stay behind me."

"Jerome," I started, my pulse still racing from the nightmare's tight grip, "do you think—"

"Shh." One finger to his lips was all it took to silence me. There was a method to his vigilance, a pattern to his gaze as it swept from one corner to the next. No shadows went unchecked, no space unaccounted for underneath the sparse light filtering in through the distant window.

His hand found its way to my shoulder, warm and steady. The simple contact seemed to seep into my bones, easing the tension that had coiled like a spring within me. It reminded me that I wasn't alone, that I had someone who would stand between me and the unknown.

Jerome's silhouette sliced through the darkness, a black outline against the backdrop of my dimly lit hallway. The quiet was profound, disturbed only by the whisper of our cautious breaths and the distant hum of the house settling into the night.

It was a nightmare, just a nightmare, but the fear felt so real.

I trailed behind him like a shadow, watching as he moved with purpose toward the control panel nestled in the corner of the living room. His fingers danced over the touchscreen with an ease that spoke of countless hours spent mastering the technology. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the readiness in his stance—always on guard, always prepared for whatever might come our way.

"See here?" Jerome pointed at the screen where multiple windows displayed different angles of the property. "Everything seems clear, but I'll double-check outside. Can't be too careful."

There was something deeply reassuring about his efficiency, how each movement was measured and precise. He wasn't just going through the motions; he was committed to ensuring my safety.

As he scrutinized each feed, toggling between camera views with practiced swipes, I was grateful. This man, who had walked into my life with his stoic demeanor and unwavering loyalty, had become my anchor in a sea of uncertainty.

"I'll be right back. Lock the door behind me."

"Be careful," I called out as he disappeared into the night, already missing the reassuring solidity of his presence. Alone again, I leaned against the cool wall, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. In my mind, I replayed the calm certainty in Jerome's words, the unwavering confidence in his gaze. Yes, I was afraid, but with Jerome by my side, I dared to hope that we would face whatever came next together.

Every second he was gone, my stomach was in knots. Protecting me was dangerous, and I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to him because of me.

"Everything's clear," Jerome announced, waiting for me to unlock the door and let him inside. "Windows are secure, no signs of tampering."

His thoroughness was more than professional—it felt personal, as if my safety was his sole reason for existing in this moment. It brought an unexpected warmth to the cold dread that had been pooling inside me.

"How about we make you some tea and get you back to bed?" he offered, crossing to me with measured strides and leading me to the kitchen. He made the tea and handed me the cup.

The steam wafted up, carrying the comforting scent of chamomile and mint. I took the mug, fingers brushing against his, and a jolt of awareness shot through me. His touch was fleeting but electric, grounding me to the here and now.

"Drink. It'll help."

"Always so sure of what I need."

He chuckled, a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the room. "It's my job to anticipate, Raven. And right now, you need rest."

"Rest," I echoed, taking a sip of the tea. It was perfect—neither too hot nor too sweet—and I wondered briefly how he'd managed to get it just right. But then, Jerome Dawson was a man full of surprises.

I followed him up to my bedroom.

"Try to sleep," he urged softly. "I'll be right outside your door. Nothing will get past me."

As he stood to leave, I caught his wrist, surprising us both. "Stay," I whispered, the plea unintentional yet undeniable. "Just until I fall asleep."

For a moment, he hesitated, the soldier warring with the man. Then, slowly, he sank back down beside me. "Until you fall asleep," he agreed, and I knew in that instant, I wasn't the only one seeking comfort in the silent vigil of the night.

"You always seem to be watching over everyone else. But who watches over you?"

He glanced away for a fraction of a second before meeting my gaze again, the shadows dancing across his stoic face in the dim light. "I've learned to watch over myself."

"Must be lonely."

"Sometimes," he admitted, and I caught a flicker of something akin to wistfulness in his eyes. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, but it was enough to tell me there were depths to Jerome Dawson that few ever saw.

"Did you always want to be a soldier?"

"Always," he confirmed, his voice tinged with the pride of a calling deeply felt. "To serve, to protect—it gave me purpose."

"And now? As a bodyguard?"

His lips quirked in a semblance of a smile. "Different battlefield. Same purpose. Keeping people safe is what I do."

"Like a knight in modern armor."

"Something like that," he conceded.

"Thank you for sharing. For staying."

"Always," he replied, his promise hanging between us like a vow.

I leaned back against the headboard, tucking one leg under the other as I studied Jerome. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, a testament to his guarded ease.

"Jerome, did you know you're quite the mysterious figure?" My voice danced into the air, a playful note underlining my words. I watched as his eyes flicked up to meet mine, a silent challenge sparking between us.

"Is that right?"

"Absolutely." My fingers trailed along the edge of the blanket, movements deliberate and teasing. "For all I know, you could be a secret agent with a penchant for rescuing damsels in distress."

"Secret agent, huh?" There was a twinkle in Jerome's eye now, one that made my heartbeat quicken just a fraction. "Well, if I told you, then it wouldn't be much of a secret."

"True, but a girl can dream."

"You are no damsel. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

The man was tugging at the barriers around my heart.