EVELARA
The morning sunlight fell across the velvet drapes, pale and soft, but it felt too sharp against my skin. I stirred awake with a heaviness in my chest I couldn’t shake, my arm instinctively tightening around the small warmth beside me.
Eryx.
His little hand was curled around mine, his breaths even, soft, long lashes resting against his cheeks. I came here last night without waiting for Lucien Virek to talk. What would I say? Why did you arrive? Why did you touch—my hand?
I raised my hand slightly, glancing at it. The burn of his touch still lingered on my skin.
I had slipped into Eryx's room like a thief and let his innocence surround me when the world tilted beneath my feet.
Now, in the quiet light of morning, everything crawled back…
Lucien’s hand, firm yet
