Morning came too soon.
Isla woke to warmth surrounding her, and Damien’s warm, steady breathing against her back, grounding her to reality. For the first time in what felt like ages, she didn’t wake up to the burden of survival crushing her ribs.
But the moment was fleeting.
Because the moment she opened her eyes, everything came crashing back in.
The war wasn’t over.
Her father remained on the loose.
There was no going back now.
She turned slightly and faced Damien. His eyes were fixed on her, as if he had woken before her and had been watching. His bare chest, his hair a bit mussed, all the hard edges that built up around him softened just enough, it made her chest squeeze a little.
Last night had been something of a surrender, but it hadn’t brought any solution.
It had made eve
