Knox:
The light stretched through the kitchen like it belonged there, soft and golden. For a second, the world outside didn’t exist. It was just her—barefoot, sleepy-eyed, wrapped in my shirt. Her hair still damp from the bath earlier, tangled and messy in a way that made my chest ache.
She was quiet, sipping her coffee slow like it hurt her throat to swallow too fast. Her eyes stayed on the table, but I could feel the weight of everything sitting behind them.
The ache. The war. The past that clawed through her dreams.
I crossed the kitchen, scooped her up with no warning, and sat down with her tucked in my lap like I’d earned the right. She didn’t fight me. Just sank into it with a breath that made her shoulders drop.
“I gave a huge chunk of my life to the club,” I said, low and stea
