LILA’S POV
(A day later…)
Asher had tugged me onto his lap, his mouth pressed to my throat, his hands so gentle it made me ache.
For a few stolen minutes, it had been just us—no disguises, no rules, no fear. Only the truth humming between our skin.
Then came the knock.
A sharp, frantic rapping that made Asher freeze, lips still warm against my jaw.
He pulled away, and I scrambled to my feet, heart slamming against my ribs. He shot me a wary look, then crossed to the door.
He didn’t open it all the way—just enough for a wedge of hallway light and a flash of nervous eyes.
Marco—Mira, in her new skin—slipped in, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Her short hair was mussed, cheeks flushed as if she’d run the whole way from the east wing.
“Lock it,” she whispered.
Asher frowned
