Elara woke to the sound of a heartbeat.
It was slow, powerful, and thudding directly against her ear. Thump... thump... thump. She was draped across Lucian like a blanket, her leg hooked over his, her face buried in the crook of his neck.
The fire had died down to glowing embers, but she wasn't cold. Lucian was blazing hot.
For a hazy, blissful moment, she forgot everything—Marc, the crash, the storm. She just felt safe. She shifted, nuzzling closer to the scent of cedar and rain.
Lucian stiffened instantly.
"Don't," he rasped, his voice thick with sleep and something darker.
Before Elara could process the rejection, he was moving. He untangled himself from her with a speed that blurred the air, rolling off the bed and standing up in one fluid motion.
"Lucian?" Elara blinked, proppi
