Aria’s POV
I woke to an empty space beside me. The sheets were still warm, but Klaus was gone. For a moment my heart lurched in panic—irrational, too fast—until my eyes caught him across the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, hunched slightly forward, his gaze fixed on the balcony doors where the faintest silver glow hinted that dawn was not far.
He hadn’t changed out of his robe from last night. His dark hair was mussed, his broad shoulders framed by the soft fall of fabric, and his profile—sharp, resolute, beautiful—looked almost carved against the pale light.
I knew he hadn’t been awake long. His stillness was deceptive; Klaus was never one for wasted time. I guessed the same instinct that woke me had stirred him as well: the unspoken urgency of stolen hours before fate tore us apa
