The steam slowly dissipated, replaced by the coolness of the bathroom air. Duke’s warmth enveloped me like a protective cocoon, but reality began to seep back in fragments of thought, of what it meant to be marked and claimed.
I shifted slightly, feeling the weight of his gaze on me. He brushed a damp strand of hair from my forehead, his touch tender yet laced with a seriousness that tugged at my heart.
“Willow,” he said, his voice low and steady, “Are you okay?”
I nodded, though uncertainty flickered beneath my calm facade. A part of me felt exhilarated, liberated in ways I hadn’t anticipated. But another part…the part still haunted by memories of Asher whispered doubts and fears. Would this new bond become just another chain, another prison in a different form?
Duke caught the shift
