Lisa’s POV
The ride home felt like one of those half-dreams, you know? Where everything’s quiet and soft and you’re floating but also heavy. Heri was knocked out in the back seat, fox plush mashed up under her chin, mouth just barely open like a little kid who’d played too hard.
I kept twisting around to look at her, just… just to make sure. That she was really sleeping. That she was breathing. That she was there.
Ronan kept one hand steady on the wheel, the other on the gear. Focused. The hum of the road filled up the silence. Damon’s bike headlights blinked in the rearview, steady as a shadow tailing us.
By the time we pulled up to the villa, my neck was stiff from watching Heri. “Ah, crap,” I whispered when I tried to move. “Ow—why do I do this to myself—”
Ronan killed the engine.
