The morning sun didn't reach the chamber. The windows were enchanted glass, filtering the harsh Alpin glare into soft twilight.
Lilian woke up encased in warmth. Dante's arm was draped over her waist, his breathing slow and rhythmic.
To her left, Adrian's head rested near her shoulder, his fingers still curled around hers even in sleep. Lucian was a heavy weight at the foot of the bed, sprawling like a lion guarding its pride.
She felt different. The hollow ache that once followed her outbursts was gone. Instead, there was a subtle golden power settled beneath her ribs.
A sharp tap-tap-tap at the window broke the silence.
Lilian sat up, careful not to wake the men. A large and coal-black crow was perched on the stone ledge outside. Its eyes weren't white, they were a milky clouded white.
"Lilian?" Adrian's voice was thick with sleep as he stirred.
"There's something at the window," she whispered.
