Seraphina's Point Of View
The tiles beneath my bare feet felt freezing, a sharp, unpleasant contrast to the strange, lingering heat still humming beneath my skin. Each step sent a jolt of cold through me, making me hyper-aware of how unsteady I was. My body felt disconnected, as though my mind were operating half a second behind my physical movements.
I stumbled slightly, my heel catching on the bath mat, but Azriel's hand found my elbow before I could fall. His grip wasn't tight, just steady. Persistent. As if he knew exactly when my legs would give out before I did. As if he'd been watching me so closely that he could anticipate every falter.
His voice rumbled low as he muttered, "I've got you," that gravelly quality it always carried after sleep vibrating through the small bathroom space.
