Morning didn't break in Raven's Hollow; it seeped in, gray and silent.
Outside, the world was a study in frozen brutality.
Snow piled thick against the cabin, a suffocating blanket.
Inside, the air was warm, smelling of woodsmoke and the lingering, electric scent of two bodies that had crossed a line they could never uncross.
Elara woke with a start, her heart hammering.
Then reality crashed down.
The kiss.
The memory hit like a physical blow.
The taste of him.
The roughness of his hands.
The way her body had betrayed her, arching into his touch, demanding more.
Shame, hot and corrosive, flooded her veins.
Why hadn't she pushed him away?
Why had his mouth on hers felt like the only thing that made sense?
She rolled onto her side, pulling the heavy wool blanket over her head,
