POV RUBY
The Maldives was supposed to be a dream of turquoise silence, but to me, it felt like living inside a high-definition cage.
I stood on the edge of the infinity pool, the salt air tangling in my hair. On the surface, I was a woman in a silk sarong watching the sunset. Beneath the skin, I was a thunderstorm. The neural bridge between me and Nevan was humming—a low, constant thrum that felt like a live wire pressed against my spine. I could feel him before I saw him. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the dark, territorial weight of his gaze as he watched me from the shadows of the veranda.
You’re cold, precious, his thought brushed against my mind. It wasn't a question. It was an observation of my biology.
I’m fine, Nevan, I replied, though the lie tasted like copper
