Morning did not arrive gently.
It crept in like a witness.
Light spilled through the tall windows in pale ribbons, touching stone, silk, and skin with quiet insistence. Aria stirred as the warmth reached her, not fully awake yet, but aware of the solid presence at her back. Damien's arm was draped around her waist, heavy and possessive, anchoring her as surely as the magic still humming faintly in her veins.
She breathed in slowly.
Him.
Smoke and iron and something darker, older. Alpha. King. The scent wrapped around her senses, and her wolf responded instantly, stretching beneath her skin, alert and satisfied in a way that was new and dangerous all at once.
Last night had not been a dream.
The memory pulsed through her like an echo. The heat. The hunger. The way he had looked at her, as if the world had narrowed to just the space where she existed.
Aria shifted slightly, testing the reality of it, and Damien reacted immediately.
His arm tightened.
