I folded the last sweater with more care than it probably deserved and placed it on top of the growing pile inside my travel bag. The fabric was thick, enchanted with a subtle warming spell Lyra had insisted on weaving into it herself.
You’ll thank me later, she’d said, eyes far too knowing. I exhaled slowly and looked around the bedroom.
It still smelled like Kael—pine, smoke, night air, and something uniquely him. Two weeks ago, this room had only been his. My ‘borrowed space’ for the night. Now, my clothes were inside the same closet as Kael’s, my hairbrush was sitting on his desk, and I felt like I was standing at a beginning I wasn’t quite ready to step away from, even if only for a short while.
“We’re not leaving forever,” I muttered to myself, as if the walls needed reassurance.
