Elaria’s POV
I awoke tangled in his warmth, my skin pressed to his chest, the steady thrum of his heart like a drum calling me home. Calling me home to stay forever.
For a moment, I just lay there, silent, stunned, aching in the most beautiful way and in the right places. Hmm! A smile spread across my lips in fulfilment.
The sheets were a mess. My hair, they probably look wilder than usual now. I had let go last night, I was free, a kind of freedom where I could however I want. He gave me that permission.
Alaric’s arm was slung across my waist as if he thought I might vanish if he let go of me.
He didn’t say a word last night. But he didn’t need to.
His body had spoken in a language no one had ever used on me before. . . A language of reverence, not of pity. A language of desire, of
