Clara
Morning light filtered softly through the tall windows of Chase’s room.
I stood in the bathroom wrapped loosely in a white sheet, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
Everything felt… different.
Not in a bad way.
Just deeper.
Stronger.
My fingers slowly brushed across my collarbone, tracing the faint places where Chase’s hands had touched me the night before.
My skin still felt warm remembering it—the softness, the closeness, the way the bond between us had come alive in a way I’d never experienced before.
My gaze drifted to my shoulder.
To the mark.
Chase’s mark sat just below the curve where my neck met my shoulder.
Two crescent-shaped impressions from his canines had already begun healing, surrounded by faint silver lines that shimmered slightly against my skin wh
