LILA'S POV
The rain had softened into a gentle drizzle.
Tiny, translucent drops slid slowly down the weathered wooden balcony railing, catching the faint, warm glow from the cottage windows. Somewhere in the far distance, well beyond the jagged silhouette of the pine trees, thunder rumbled quietly. It wasn't a threatening sound anymore. It was just a low, rumbling reminder of the storm they had successfully outrun.
Inside the cozy cottage, the air smelled faintly of cedarwood, vanilla, and old paper. On a low shelf in the corner, a vintage speaker played a slow, scratchy love song from a playlist they hadn't bothered to name.
Ryker shifted his weight, turning away from the window where he had been watching the mist roll over the hills. He looked toward me.
The firelight danced across
