Selis rolled over, staring at the ceiling beams.
Despite her body aching, she felt oddly restless. She had spent too many nights bracing for an attack, too many hours expecting claws, fangs, or worse to burst out of the darkness.
Her eyes narrowed at the thought. "If another vampire tries me tonight, I swear—I'll burn the whole nest down myself."
But the room was warm, the sheets smelled faintly of lavender, and for the first time in what felt like forever, her eyelids grew heavy without fear clutching her chest.
Still, as sleep began to pull her under, she found herself whispering, half a prayer, half a threat: "No vampires tonight. Please. I'm sick to death of you bastards."
With that, she drifted into the first deep, unbroken sleep she'd had in months—unaware that Lucian slip into her room.
At the sight of Selis asleep, Lucian paused at the door. It was locked, of course, but he could definitely open it.
