Morning came softly.
That felt rude.
After a day of rogues, silver, blood, Brecken’s messages, Vivienne’s foolishness, stolen records, and a bath that had left more questions than answers, the sun had the nerve to rise gently over Silver Crest like the world had not shifted beneath our feet.
Gold light slipped through the curtains of the Alpha suite and stretched across the bed in quiet ribbons.
I woke before Darius.
For a moment, I did not move.
Not because of pain, though there was plenty of that waiting politely beneath my skin.
Because his hand was still holding mine.
Sometime in the night, sleep had softened the careful space between us. Darius lay on his side facing me, one arm bent beneath his pillow, his other hand wrapped loosely around mine on top of the sheet. Not grippi
