Aria woke up—but it took everything in her not to open her eyes and glance beside her, afraid Zyren might still be lying next to her.
She remembered every single thing that had happened—including the parts she didn't want to recall. The memories clung to her like thick smoke, suffocating and invasive. It was enough to make her squeeze her eyes shut even tighter and curl in on herself beneath the covers.
She lay motionless, doing her best to silently perceive her environment—to listen, to sense—desperate to make sure she was alone before daring to open her eyes.
Her body was sore, but that was the last thing on her mind.
Only when she felt nothing beside her on the bed—no presence, no heat, no breath—did she cautiously crack her eyes open. Scooting back instinctively, she let out a small breath of relief when she saw she was indeed alone. The sheets beside her were cold. Zyren was gone.
