His gaze flickered, and though his expression remained cold, there was a shadow of understanding in his eyes. He took a step back, letting out a slow breath. “More of them will come,” he said bluntly, scanning the dark forest around us. “You won’t survive on your own.”
I wanted to argue, to insist I could manage, but exhaustion weighed me down. I was at my limit, and we both knew it. “I have nowhere else to go,” I admitted, swallowing the knot of pride in my throat. “And my child… I need to keep us safe.”
His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he considered me. There was a tense silence, thick with an unspoken conflict, before he let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. You can stay with me—for now.”
Relief washed over me, so sudden and overwhelming that I nearly stumbled. But he caught me, his grip surprisingly gentle. For a brief moment, his touch was warm, grounding, and I allowed myself to lean into it before he let go, pulling away as though burned.
“Don’t get comfortable,” he warned, his voice gruff. “I don’t do charity, and I’m not risking my life to play babysitter.”