SERAPHINA’S POV
Kieran kept one hand at the small of my back as we walked back to our room, not pressing hard, not guiding me as though I might break, but staying close enough that the warmth of his palm cut through the cold unease clinging to my skin.
I found comfort in it. But beneath that comfort, something darker twisted.
Every time his fingers brushed near the edge of those hidden silver markings, I remembered the way his body had gone rigid when he saw how far they had spread.
By the time we reached our room, my chest felt too tight.
The door shut behind us with a soft click, and for a few seconds, neither of us moved.
The bedroom was washed in pale moonlight slipping through the curtains. The bed was neatly made, untouched since morning. The familiar scent of cedar, lavender, clean linen, and Kieran filled the space—a warmth that made the cold inside me feel even sharper.
I stood in the middle of the room and stared at nothing.
Kieran drew in a long, deep breath.
