The Anchor's Price

He found her in her tower bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him. The scent of him—sex and sweat and Sofia—still clung to his skin, a brutal perfume that filled her safe space. He didn't touch her, just knelt before her trembling form on the bed, his eyes hollow. "You wanted to know what a man needs?" he said, his hands opening, empty. "This is the cost of keeping you safe. This is the filth I swim in so your world stays clean."