In the bedroom, candlelight danced on the walls, casting long shadows and warm gold over the sheets. The air was thick with emotion—anticipation, tenderness, trust.
Vernon moved with effortless grace, carrying her towards the sprawling bed. The movement was slow, deliberate, as if she were precious cargo, and Elora found herself simply melting into his arms, feeling utterly secure. Sylas followed close behind, his gaze a burning line on their forms, a quiet intensity in his usual expressive eyes.
Vernon laid her down on the cool, smooth sheets as if she were made of fragile glass, his movements unhurried, his deep eyes never leaving hers. He smoothed a stray strand of hair from her forehead, a tender, grounding touch. Then, he straightened, stepping back just enough to give space between
