The ghost of his lips lingered still, a brand upon her skin, searing her forehead with a warmth that unsettled her far more than the sharpest of punishments ever had. That kiss—gentle, deliberate, and hauntingly soft—had been nothing like the man she knew. It had been almost reverent, as if tenderness could cleanse the bruises he had carved into her, as if a single brush of affection could smother months of chains and silence. Yet it wasn’t comfort that it left behind—it was confusion. A confusion so heavy it pressed on her chest, making every breath ache.
The fire crackled faintly in the corner, its glow spilling shadows across the room, but the silence that stretched between them was louder than the flames. Ashton lay away on the bed, his head resting against the pillow, his chest risin
