Arielle woke up later than usual the next morning.
The sunlight slipping past the curtains was soft, warmer than the chill of the last two days. For a brief moment, as she sat on the edge of the bed, she allowed herself to pretend everything was normal — that there had been no storm, no kiss, no shift she couldn’t take back.
Then reality sank back in.
She rubbed her temples, trying to chase away the dull headache sitting behind her eyes. She needed focus. She couldn’t afford to get distracted — not now, not after what happened.
If anything, the kiss had made everything more dangerous.
Kairo hadn’t brought it up again since the night before, but that silence was its own kind of tension. He wasn’t ignoring it — he was controlling it, deciding when and how it would matter.
That was the
