Amara
Warmth. That was the first thing I felt.
Not the kind of warmth that came from the hearth or sunlight. No—this was something deeper. Something alive. Something that had wrapped itself around me and refused to let go.
Lucian.
I lay still, my cheek pressed to the center of his chest, listening to the soft thump of his heartbeat beneath my ear. His arm was draped across my back, heavy and protective, and his fingers had somehow curled into my braid in the middle of the night. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep in his arms. We had just… been talking, and then I was there, tucked against him, my body relaxing in a way it hadn’t in years.
And he didn’t let go.
Even now, hours later, he hadn’t moved away.
It should have scared me. Maybe it did a little. But more than that, it soothed some
