Elira woke to sunlight brushing across her cheeks, her legs tangled with Damien’s, his hand resting protectively over her waist.
For a second, she forgot everything. The pain. The threats. The war outside this bed.
But the moment didn’t last.
A knock sounded on the safehouse door—sharp, deliberate.
Damien stirred instantly, eyes dark with alertness. “Stay here,” he murmured, already pulling on a shirt and sliding a gun beneath his waistband.
Elira sat up slowly, tension crawling back into her skin like an old enemy.
The knock came again. Slower this time.
Damien cracked the door.
Soren stood outside.
Elira’s breath caught.
Not because she was afraid—but because seeing him reminded her of the years she spent away. Of the man who caught her when she fell. The one who helped raise h
