The afternoon light moved slowly across the floor, measuring the passing hours in gold and shadow. Somewhere in the residence, life continued, patrols cycling, commands dispatched, the machinery of protection turning without pause.
In this room, only the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. The steady warmth of his arm across her. The wordless knowledge that some things were worth more than any victory the outside world could offer.
Some stillness was worth more.
And Kade Nightshade, for once, allowed himself to accept that.
Kade held his position, his body still beside her, the weight of her head against his shoulder a quiet anchor in the room's dimness. His thumb kept its slow path along her arm, unhurried circles that had settled into their own rhythm, something that had started as conscious comfort and become, without his noticing, simply the way his hand rested.
