Lana’s POV
The first thing I felt was his hand. Heavy, warm, splayed over my stomach as though he’d been guarding it all night. His breath was even, his chest rising and falling against my back, and for a moment I let myself pretend this was all I needed.
The silence in the room was different than last night’s. Not strained, not charged—just heavy. I lay still, watching dawn spread like pale silk across the ceiling, listening to the slow rhythm of his sleep.
Julian had given me everything I demanded, more than I asked for, until I’d had no choice but to take it. He’d wrapped me in certainty, spoken vows into my skin, and laid claim to me with a force I hadn’t thought he had.
And still, beneath the hush of morning, I felt it—that small hollow ache that no amount of heat could cauterize.
