Lyra woke before either of them, a rare occurrence, finding herself nestled in the comfortable warmth of their shared bed.
Golden light, diffused through the sheer white curtains, spilled across the rumpled sheets, dusting their entangled bodies in a warm, ethereal glow.
She lay between the twins, a perfect tangle of limbs and breath, her senses acutely aware of their presence. Xander’s arm rested heavy and warm across her waist, his rhythmic breathing a comforting lullaby against her back. Kyson’s hand, possessive and steady, curled over her hip, his scent of pine and crisp air a familiar comfort.
She stretched slightly, a languid, contented movement, and then—she froze.
A warm, gentle hum pulsed beneath her skin. It was not pain, nor discomfort, but a profound, almost electric sens
