Feeling something stir, Arabella shot to her feet and rushed to the glass coffin. Her breath caught as her eyes darted to Cassius's chest— still rising, still falling— and then to his fingers, motionless as stone.
"Cassius," she whispered, certain his consciousness had returned. She didn't merely believe it —she felt it, as if the truth pulsed through her own veins.
A moment later, his red eyes opened, slow and heavy with sleep. For the briefest heartbeat, his gaze seemed lost, dazed. But then, instinctively, unfailingly, it found her. His hand rose, capturing hers with ease, and his lips curved into that familiar smile that came to him as though it were second nature.
"Why do you look so sad?" he asked softly, as though her sorrow was the only thing in the world that mattered.
