The sunlight was sharp when Damien’s eyes blinked open. For a moment, his mind was slow to catch up, the remnants of the night still wrapping around him like a dream. He reached out instinctively to the side of the bed, to the warmth that should have been there. His hand met only cold sheets.
Amara wasn’t beside him.
He frowned, his body heavy with reluctance to rise, but something gnawed at him. She wasn’t the type to slip away without a word, not after last night, not after the closeness they had shared. He sat up slowly, stretching, his muscles protesting from the long weeks of tension and half-healed wounds.
The clock on the bedside table read 6:00 a.m.
She would be in the dining room, he told himself. Amara liked to rise early, sometimes even before him, though she often teased hi
