Morning light slid through the branches and hit my face before I was ready for it.
Everything ached. Not from fighting. From last night.
From him.
I opened my eyes and Rowan was already up — standing a few steps away, hands on his hips, staring into the trees like the forest owed him answers.
His shirt was rumpled.
His hair messy.
And I knew exactly why.
He didn't look at me when he spoke.
"You're awake."
His voice wasn't cold.
Just… guarded.
Pulled tight like he was holding every emotion by the throat.
I sat up slowly, the memory of his mouth, his weight, his heat still burning across my skin.
"Yeah," I said. My voice was rougher than I expected. "I'm awake."
Silence.
Thick.
Heavy.
He finally turned his head just enough to glance at me
