Enzo's POV
Her breathing was soft against my chest, slow and heavy, the kind of rhythm that told me she had fallen into the depths of sleep after exhaustion had stolen every ounce of strength from her. Her lashes rested like shadows against her cheeks, her lips parted slightly, still swollen from the hunger of my mouth earlier.
I lay there for a while just staring at her, my arm heavy around her waist, the warmth of her body pressed against mine. There was a time I never thought I’d be capable of this kind of silence, of this kind of stillness. I was a man born for war, bred to carry blood on my hands, to make decisions that could snap necks or save packs. But with her here, draped over me like I was something worth clinging to, it was different.
The urge rose in me like it always did—t
