POV: Burn
The room was dark and quiet, the only sound the slow, steady rhythm of Sophie’s breathing as she lay curled up beside me. Her body was pressed against mine, warm and soft, her arm draped across my chest like she couldn’t bear to be apart from me. I ran my hand through her hair, feeling the strands slip between my fingers, my mind still racing despite the calm.
The adrenaline from the mission hadn’t fully worn off yet, and the possessive fire that had driven me all night still burned hot beneath my skin. Sophie was mine—completely, entirely mine—and nothing was going to change that. Not La Morte Nera. Not anyone.
But as I stared up at the ceiling, the weight of the night pressing down on me, something gnawed at the back of my mind. I had protected her tonight, but that was just
