Hope's POV.
The room is quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the wind outside and the steady rhythm of Malakar’s breathing beside me. His arms are wrapped around me, holding me like he never wants to let go, our legs tangled beneath the blanket. The warmth of his body seeping into mine, a comfort I hadn’t realized how desperately I needed until I was finally back in it.
He only just returned—grimy from the road and exhausted to the bone—but he is here. Whole. Safe. With me.
My fingers trace slow circles on his bare chest, lingering over the scars I know all too well. His heart beat strong beneath my palm, and I lean in to press a soft kiss just above it.
“You’re really here,” I whisper.
Malakar’s hand slides up to cup the side of my face, rough thumb brushing gently across my cheek.
