Chapter 1
I woke up already burning.
The heat was there before I was fully awake—slow, steady, spreading through me like something alive. My eyes stayed half-closed, my thoughts still foggy, but my body… my body was wide awake. Restless. Needy. Impossible to ignore.
I shifted slightly on the bed, hoping it would pass.
It didn’t.
A quiet sound slipped from my lips as the feeling deepened, curling low in my stomach and pulling tighter between my thighs. The sheets twisted around my legs as I moved again, trying to distract myself, trying to think of anything else.
It only made it worse.
“Not now…” I whispered, my voice soft, barely there.
But I already knew I wasn’t winning this.
I pressed my face into the pillow, breathing in slowly, trying to calm the storm building under my skin. Every breath felt heavier. Warmer. Like my body was working against me instead of with me.
And the worst part?
Lyssara wasn’t here.
That realization hit harder than it should have. Normally, she would’ve laughed, teased me, said something ridiculous to snap me out of it—or at least distract me. But this morning, the room was silent.
Too quiet.
Too empty.
And I was alone with it.
I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling, my chest rising and falling unevenly. I tried one last time to fight it—to ignore the tension, the way my body seemed to pulse with its own rhythm.
But the feeling only grew sharper.
“Damn it…”
My hand moved before I could stop it.
Slowly. Almost hesitant at first.
I pushed my pa*t aside, the cool air brushing against my skin making me shiver. My fingers traced lightly over my stomach, drifting lower, curiosity and need blending together until I couldn’t separate them anymore.
A soft gasp escaped me.
My other hand moved upward, pressing against my bre*st, squeezing gently before tightening just enough to send a spark through me. My breath caught as the sensation spread, pulling something deeper out of me.
The room felt different now.
Closer.
Warmer.
Like the air itself had thickened.
Every small movement felt louder, sharper, more intense. My breathing filled the silence, uneven and soft, as I lost myself in the moment—just for a little while.
Just enough to quiet the storm.
When it was over, I collapsed back against the mattress, my body still humming faintly, my chest rising and falling as I tried to steady myself.
For a moment, I just stared at the ceiling.
Quiet.
Still.
But not completely at ease.
A lingering restlessness clung to me, like something unfinished.
I groaned softly, dragging a hand over my face. “I seriously need to get myself together.”
With a slow breath, I forced myself up.
The room felt different now—too aware, too exposed—so I moved quickly. I gathered the sheets, stuffing them into the laundry basket, trying not to think about anything, just focusing on movement.
Normal things.
Routine.
I stepped into the bathroom, turning on the tap, letting the sound of running water ground me. I wiped the sink, straightened the towels, anything to shift the energy in the room. Soon, the scent of soap and air freshener replaced everything else—clean, sharp, controlled.
Better.
When I finally looked at myself in the mirror, I paused.
My hair was slightly messy, my lips a little parted, my eyes… still not completely calm.
I exhaled slowly and ran my fingers through my hair.
“Get it together,” I muttered.
Then I stepped back into my room.
And that’s when it happened.
A car horn.
Sharp. Sudden.
It cut through the quiet like a warning.
I froze.
My father.
My heart skipped as I moved quickly toward the window. I pulled the curtain aside just enough to see outside.
The car had just pulled in.
The driver stepped out first, walking around to open the back door.
And then—
My father.
Relief softened something in my chest the moment I saw him.
But it didn’t last.
Because he wasn’t alone.
Another man stepped out from the front.
I frowned slightly, leaning closer to the glass.
Even from a distance, he stood out.
Tall. Broad. Solid.
There was something in the way he moved—steady, controlled, precise. Not rushed. Not careless. Every step felt intentional.
Like he was aware of everything.
Even things he wasn’t looking at.
Before I could study him longer, my father looked up.
Directly toward the house.
Toward me.
I dropped the curtain immediately, my heart jumping, and stepped back like I’d been caught doing something wrong.
Then I moved.
Fast.
Down the stairs.
“Daddy!” I called as I reached the entrance.
His face lit up instantly when he saw me.
“My baby girl,” he said, opening his arms.
I didn’t hesitate. I walked straight into his embrace, wrapping my arms around him as he held me close. The familiar warmth, the comfort—it grounded me in a way nothing else could.
“I missed you,” he murmured.
“I missed you too,” I said softly.
And then—
I noticed him.
Standing just behind my father.
Closer now.
Clearer.
My father stepped back slightly and gestured toward him.
“Zarelle,” he said, casual, like it was nothing, “meet Vaelor. My new bodyguard.”
So that was who he was.
I turned fully this time, my attention settling on him without distraction.
Vaelor stepped forward.
Calm. Composed. Unshaken.
His expression didn’t change much, but there was something in his eyes—something steady, watchful—that made it hard to look away too quickly.
He extended his hand.
For a second, I just stared at it.
Then at him.
Something quiet stirred in my chest.
Not loud.
Not overwhelming.
Just… there.
I placed my hand in his.
His grip was firm.
Warm.
Controlled.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Zarelle,” he said.
His voice was low. Even. Measured.
And for some reason… I held his gaze a second longer than I should have.
My father didn’t notice.
He placed a hand on my shoulder, smiling. “Vaelor will be around often,” he said. “He’s one of the best.”
Vaelor released my hand and stepped back again.
Everything about him returned to stillness.
Professional.
Distant.
Like that moment hadn’t meant anything.
They turned to walk inside.
But just before he followed—
Vaelor looked back.
Only for a second.
Our eyes met.
And something about that brief, silent moment…
Didn’t feel accidental.
Then he looked away.
And it was over.
I stood there long after they disappeared inside.
My fingers curled slightly, remembering the weight of his hand in mine.
Something about that moment stayed with me.
Quiet.
Unsettling.
Like a thread had been pulled somewhere deep inside me—and I didn’t know where it led yet.
But I could feel it.
And for the first time that morning…
The heat I woke up with didn’t feel random anymore.
It felt like a beginning.
