The first light of dawn was seeping through the heavy curtains when I finally slipped from Darius's chambers. The air in the corridor was cool, a stark contrast to the lingering warmth of his bed and the possessive weight of his arm still wrapped around my memory.
My body ached in a way that was both satisfying and unsettling, a physical reminder of the fierce, demanding passion that had passed between us—a passion that had felt less like a connection and more like a branding.
I found my own rooms empty and silent. Eli had laid out a simple, but elegant, tunic and breeches, the dark blue fabric a stark contrast to the fancy silks I was now expected to wear. It was a practical choice, a reminder of the man I used to be, the man I still was beneath the layers of velvet and gold that constituted my new life.
