She was bare before him on the bed, breath unsteady, her skin glowing gold in the soft light filtering through the half-drawn curtains. For the first time in a long while, Lilith felt exposed, not because of the lack of clothes, but because of the way he looked at her.
Zane didn’t reach for her at once. He simply stood at the edge of his bed, eyes tracing her like a man memorizing something sacred. The faint rise and fall of her chest, the curve of her collarbone, the pale marks along her shoulders, small remnants of training, of battles survived. She was strong, sculpted, yet so achingly human in that quiet moment.
She moved instinctively to cover herself, but his hand caught hers, gentle, firm.
“Don’t,” he murmured, his voice low and rough around the edges. Her pulse skipped. There wa
