Aria’s POV
The first thing I felt was warmth. The sheets were soft against my bare skin, still faintly scented of last night—smoke, sweat, the bond, and him. My body ached pleasantly, every muscle reminding me of the way Klaus had worshiped me, claimed me, and held me until exhaustion had stolen us both into sleep.
But when my eyes fluttered open, the bed beside me was empty. My heart lurched before my gaze found him.
Klaus sat across the room, draped casually in a dark robe, the belt knotted loose around his waist. He was sunk into the old velvet sofa by the window, one elbow braced on the armrest, a steaming mug cradled in his hand. Milk, of course—he always drank it in the mornings as though he’d never abandoned that habit from boyhood. The sunlight spilled through the open curtains,
