I nestled deeper under the covers, watching Alaric stoke the fire. The orange glow outlined his powerful frame, casting dramatic shadows across our bedchamber. Despite my exhaustion, sleep had eluded me until his return. Now, with him home safe, relief flooded through me.
"The fire should last through the night," he said, setting aside the poker and turning toward our bed.
"Good," I murmured, pulling back the covers on his side. "I've been waiting for you."
Alaric raised an eyebrow as he unbuttoned his shirt. "You should be asleep, Isabella. It's late, and in your condition—"
"My condition is precisely why I couldn't sleep without knowing you were safe," I interrupted, my hand instinctively resting on my stomach. "Don't you dare lecture me about rest when you're out there putting yourself in danger."
His expression softened as he slid into bed beside me. "I'm perfectly fine, as you can see."
