The moon spilled silver across their bedroom floor, gentle and slow, like a blessing from the heavens above. The enchanted vines swayed faintly in the stillness, and the stars painted across the ceiling shimmered as though they, too, held their breath.
Seraphine lay nestled in Valen’s arms, their bodies close beneath the thin silk sheets. Her fingers trailed up his bare chest, tracing the immortal lines carved into him by centuries of war, pain, and longing. He wasn’t just the man she remembered—he was her home, her ruin, and her rebirth.
“You’re too beautiful,” she whispered, brushing a kiss to his collarbone.
Valen cupped her face gently, reverently, like she was still the dream he feared would vanish. “Then let me love you like it hurts, my starborn flame. Let me make this night tast
