THIRD PERSON POV
The air between them had grown almost unbearable. Every breath she took was thick with smoke, his proximity, the unspoken danger lingering in the dimly lit bunker. Elara’s heart hammered in her chest, loud enough that she was certain he could hear it.
Rowan’s gaze lingered on her lips, dark and unreadable, and something unspoken passed between them — a magnetic pull she had tried to resist for weeks, months, maybe longer. His hand brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, lingering just at her jawline. The touch was light, almost accidental, but it set her nerves alight, making her ache in ways she wasn’t ready to name.
“Elara…” he murmured, his voice husky, low, carrying a weight that made her knees threaten to buckle.
She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him
