Rowan
I woke up to the warm press of skin against mine, Soren's arm draped loosely around my waist, his breath brushing the back of my neck.
The room was quiet, far too quiet, and for a moment I allowed myself the indulgence of stillness. Of pretending we were just… together. No betrayals. No past. No scars.
But the memory of last night hit like a crashing wave—his heat, the scent, the desperate way he clung to me, begged for me, needed me. And I gave in. Like I always fucking did.
It's like I couldn't control myself around him and I hated myself for it. I shouldn't have come here. I should have ignored the fucking calls in the first place.
I shifted, carefully sliding his arm off me and sitting up at the edge of the bed. I planted my feet on the floor, reaching for my shirt. Just one step at a time. Quiet. Don't wake him.
"You're sneaking out now?" his voice rasped behind me, and I flinched.
Damn it.
"I didn't sneak," I muttered, not turning around. "I just got up."
