LUCIAN'S P.O.V.
The warmth of Teresa's body in my arms was more than comfort; it was salvation. Her soft breaths fanned against my chest, a quiet rhythm that anchored me. For once, Ares was at peace, and I could feel his steady hum of satisfaction. I tightened my hold on her, careful not to wake her, and pressed my face to her hair, inhaling the faint scent of lavender and something uniquely hers.
"She's ours now. Don't mess it up again," Ares growled, his voice tinged with warning but also warmth.
"Believe me, I won't even dream of it," I replied silently, holding her closer.
She was here. She was mine, and I was going to keep it that way forever.
I traced her silhouette in my mind, imagining the curve of her lips, the way her lashes must rest against her cheeks. I wished—desperately—that I could see her again, just once. But all I had was the darkness. Still, the bond between us made me feel her beauty in ways sight never could.
