The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of the master bedroom, painting stripes of gold across the duvet. For the first time in five years, Lucian Thorne didn't wake up reaching for a phone, a tablet, or a bottle of aspirin.
He woke up reaching for her.
Elara was asleep against his chest, her breathing a soft, rhythmic lullaby that settled the chaos in his soul. Lucian lay perfectly still, terrified that if he moved, he would wake up back in his cold, empty mansion. He traced the line of her spine with a reverence he had never possessed before.
"Stop thinking so loud," Elara mumbled into his skin, her voice thick with sleep. "I can hear your brain calculating risk assessments."
Lucian chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. He kissed the top of her head. "I wasn't calculating
