The first rays of sunlight slipped through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold. Elara stirred, half-entranced by the warmth, half-dazed by the events of the night before. Her body ached in places she hadn’t expected, a tender reminder of the passion they had shared. But beneath that warmth, a chill crept in—an uninvited companion: guilt.
She lay still, staring at the ceiling, replaying the night in fragments. Adrian’s hands, his lips, the intensity in his eyes—they had awakened something in her that was both exhilarating and terrifying. And yet, alongside the exhilaration was a gnawing unease. Was she wrong to give in? To let herself be so vulnerable? To let desire blur the lines they had carefully drawn?
Adrian, meanwhile, sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze distant. His norma
