The morning after the wedding felt unreal in the quietest way. I woke up slowly, not because of noise or obligation, but because my body finally felt safe enough to rest. Sunlight slipped through the curtains in soft layers, touching the room like it had permission to be there. For a few seconds, I just lay still, listening to the sound of breathing beside me.
Canna was awake already. I could tell by the way his hand rested firmly on my waist, like he had been anchoring himself there for a while.
“Good morning, Mrs. Brown,” he said, his voice low and amused.
I smiled without opening my eyes. “You sound too comfortable saying that.”
“I waited a long time to earn it,” he replied.
I turned to face him. His expression was calm, but there was something different in his eyes. Less guarded a
