Fiona’s POV
Warmth. That’s all I could feel at first. Steady, grounding, like the earth itself, had decided to hold me still. Safe. Quiet. Familiar.
My eyes fought to open, the world blurry and stubborn. Dim light, the faintest metallic tang in the air, a trace of something herbal, and voices—soft, too soft to catch.
And then there he was.
Asher.
His arms were locked around me, unwavering, like letting go wasn’t even a thought. His body was close and unmoving, almost too still.
Since when?
I chased the memory, but it scattered like leaves in the wind. Flashes. Blood. Miriam shouting. Asher’s voice cracking. His hands—cradling me like glass.
My fingers twitched. Brushed against the rough fabric of his shirt. That tiny movement? Enough to make him inhale sharply, his arms clamping ti
