Elena’s POV
It was a quiet sort of Sunday morning that seemed to defy the chaos of recent days. I was curled up on the couch in Adrian’s penthouse, legs tucked under me, a blanket around my shoulders. My laptop rested on my knees. For once, the blinking cursor didn’t intimidate me. Words flowed easily, almost urgently, as if some dam had finally broken.
Last night was still with me. In the curve of my hips, in the faint soreness between my thighs, in the ghost of his hands gripping me like I was salvation itself. We had burned down every trace of Nathan’s poison. Every whisper from Rachel. Every shadow cast by Charles Cole.
I didn’t realize how long I’d been typing until Adrian’s voice cut through the hush. “I thought you’d join me back in bed.”
I looked up. He stood at the edge of the
