The sun hung low, a bruised purple stain spreading across the horizon in front of the old cottage.
Aria sat in the dirt where the grass had been worn thin, her knees pulled tight to her chest.
She held a jagged twig, mindlessly carving lines into the grey sand—a frantic, messy map of her own anxiety.
Her hair fell forward like a dark curtain, a shield against a world that had become increasingly hostile.
Aria didn't hear him approach, but her body knew he was there.
The air always seemed to hum at a different frequency when Liam was near, a low-vibration resonance that lived in her bones.
The scent of crushed pine and cold rain reached her a second before his massive shadow fell over her drawings.
Liam didn’t say a word at first.
He simply lowered his large frame, his leather
