No more hiding.
Her eyes widen.
His are firm, unyielding. They search hers, his intent clear even in the hardened metal of his irises, and if it weren't for the soft brush of his thumb over her cheek, she would have thought him angry.
But he's not. He is the cold and ice and all those frozen, wintry things, but like them—like the ice—he is capable of melting.
Even if only a little.
"Why?" she chokes.
His lips replace his thumb, and then he's folding her into him, holding her close. "Because I see you. And you me."