Ezekiel's POV
The dim glow of the candles still lingered faintly as I lay in bed with Isabella. Her arms were wrapped tightly around me, her head nestled against my chest. Her breathing was soft and steady, her warmth enveloping me like a cocoon. My fingers absentmindedly traced through her hair, the silky strands slipping between them effortlessly.
It felt so good. Too good.
My heart was racing, a relentless rhythm I couldn’t control whenever she was near. Every glance she threw my way, every casual touch, every word she spoke seemed to light a fire within me. She had a way of making me feel things I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in years—things I wasn’t supposed to feel. Not for her.
I liked her. There was no denying it now. I liked her far more than I should. And that truth gnawed a
