POV: Ivy
I woke up to the sound of silk rustling.
The room was flooded with a harsh, bright light that didn't belong in a sanctuary. I sat up, clutching the black sheets to my chest, my skin feeling sensitized and raw from the night before. The space beside me was empty, the pillow still bearing the deep indentation of Silas’s heavy head.
"You’re finally awake."
The voice came from the far end of the room. Silas was standing by a floor-to-ceiling window, already fully dressed. He was wearing a navy pinstripe suit that screamed authority. He looked as if the night before had never happened—as if he hadn't spent hours claiming every inch of my soul.
He didn't look at me. He was busy loading a small, silver pistol.
The metallic snick of the magazine sliding into place made my blood run
