The light had only just begun to filter gently through the thick blackout curtains when Elara's consciousness started to rise to the surface. She didn't wake suddenly. No frantic breaths. No remnants of nightmares. Just a slow, muffled return to reality, as if drifting upward through warm velvet fog.
The first thing she felt wasn't a thought. Not a memory. But presence.
Her body didn't lie the way it usually did: not curled in on itself, not clinging to the edge of the bed. But... nestled against someone. Resting against a solid, warm chest where the rhythm of a heartbeat could almost be felt. The air carried a spicy, faintly smoky scent - familiar, comforting, masculine. Her breathing had unconsciously aligned with his, as if her body had known even before waking that she wasn't alone.
