Rayna’s POV
I set the cup down, though my fingers itched to cling to Damon’s warmth a moment longer. Wendrah’s presence filled the room like moonlight, too bright, too heavy to ignore.
“Give me a moment,” I said, my voice quiet but steady. “I need to dress.”
For a heartbeat, she only tilted her head, as if the thought itself hadn’t crossed her mind. Then her lips curved into a small, rueful smile. “Ah. Of course. I forget what it means… to be alive again.” Her gaze softened, something almost wistful in it. “The weight of cloth, the small rituals of flesh. I will wait.”
She inclined her head, then turned, her hair brushing like water over her shoulder as she stepped soundlessly from the room. The door closed with the gentlest click, leaving behind a faint trace of night-blooming flowers
