The room changed around his sleep. Awake, Valerius filled spaces even when he stood silent. Asleep, the force of him retreated, leaving behind the lines exhaustion had carved into his face. His mouth softened. The tension in his brow eased. One hand rested open against the blanket, palm turned upward, the thorn mark visible in the firelight.
Sera stared at that hand.
The memory of his palm against hers returned with cruel clarity.
Heat. Pulse. Restraint. The waiting. The way he had not closed his fingers until she left. The way she had wanted him to.
Her stomach tightened.
No.
She crossed the room to the chair by the fire, not closer to him, she told herself, just away from the desk where her reflection in the window looked too much like someone caught. The chair faced the hearth at
