Luciano didn’t sleep.
Not really.
After the door closed behind him and Sienna, after her soft breath finally evened into something that resembled peace, he sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, the moonlight carving sharp shadows across the scars on his back.
He stared ahead, unmoving, every line of his body taut with a tension that refused to leave.
Because the serpent had come.
And he could still feel the whisper of danger left behind in the air, slithering through the cracks in the walls.
Sienna stirred behind him.
She didn’t speak, but he felt her gaze.
It was gentle.
Probing.
Trusting.
Too trusting.
Luciano ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. “You should sleep.”
“You didn’t.”
Her voice was quiet, still soaked in the remnants of midnight.
“I don’t have
