ZINA'S POV
Her world fell silent.
Every sound, the gasps, the rustle of leaves, the faint music of the courtyard fountain which she was just noticing—all of it blurred into nothingness when Daemon's mouth found hers.
For one heartbeat, she froze.
Then, the year that stood between them shattered.
The walls she'd built during mourning, the prayers whispered into an empty pillow, the lonely nights spent in the Temple wishing she could feel his warmth again and get rid of her aching loneliness—all of them came crashing down as her body recognized the taste of home.
His lips didn't kiss her the way she had once known. No, this kiss was a storm—hungry, unrestrained, the kind that devoured reason. It was everything she had starved for wrapped in the scent of his skin, the warmth of his breath, and the trembling ache of his who had waited too long.
Daemon kissed her like a dying man who had finally found air.
