For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn't awkward—it was full, heavy with the weight of what had just passed between them.
Selis knew she should say something—maybe a joke, maybe a question—but instead, she let herself sink into the moment, into the rare stillness that came after a storm.
Selis didn't remember the exact moment she'd drifted off—only the lingering warmth of his body, the faint ache at her neck, and the delicious exhaustion that pulled her under.
When she woke, it was already the next day. The air in the chamber was cool, and though it was still dark beyond the windows, she could sense the first hints of morning. Her lashes fluttered open, and the first thing she noticed was the faint rustle of cloth.
Lucian stood at the cave entrance, already dressed in full attire. His coat hung perfectly on his tall frame, boots polished, hair neat as if nothing from last night had happened at all.
