A soft light crept through the cabin’s frost-laced windows, casting pale golden patterns across the wooden floor.
The fire had died down to embers overnight, leaving the room smelling faintly of smoke and pine.
The storm had passed.
The blizzard that had raged hours earlier now existed only in the muffled crunch of snow outside and the glinting, glistening layer of white covering the forest beyond.
Aisha stirred beneath the blankets, waking slowly to the quiet calm of morning.
Her body ached pleasantly, warmed by the layers of wool, the fire, and the unshakable sense of safety that came from being in the cabin with him—even if that safety carried its own intensity, its own tension.
The Alpha sat nearby, awake long before her. He had cleaned the wounds she had bandaged which was a
