The first early morning light of the Witch Dimension was a gentle, cosmic dawn.
It began as a soft, pearlescent glow that seeped through the transparent walls of the observatory, slowly illuminating the swirling nebulae and the distant, silent landmasses. It was a light that didn't wake you so much as it gently coaxed you back into existence.
Jax stirred, not with a jolt, but with a deep, contented sigh. The first thing he was aware of was the warmth. Not just the warmth of a blanket, but a living, pulsing heat that seeped into his skin.
The second was the soft weight draped over him, the silken texture of hair tickling his chest, and the rhythmic rise and fall of breathing that was not his own.
He opened his eyes. Willow was nestled against him, her head resting on his chest, one leg thrown possessively over his own.
