Stavanger Bay if "i love you" was a promise

dalia's voice was tiny, so little that velen had to lean closer.
the words she gave stuck a great and resounding blow to his heart, and for a long moment, he only stared at her, features welling with a rage he soon broke off to turn toward the sea. 
a man had hurt dalia, hurt her in the way that sick men did to women. his mind raced grimly; it was a punishable offense, and his hackles rose in spite of himself. but he must be calm now; he must not raise his voice, frighten her. for, despite velen's glaring flaws, he was aware he was still a man, one of those who had brought his companion so low.
"i'm sorry, dalia," the boy murmured, though his voice had dropped into the smokier rumble of anger. "no one here will judge you for it, i know." he lapsed then, unsure of what to offer; he was not one for platitudes, and what could he even say in this instance?
not wanting to pepper her with questions about what had happened, who she had told, or touch her, velen lay his chin across his forepaws and watched the girl for a long moment. "is there anything i can do?"