Four Years Later
The morning sun filtered through the curtains of our apartment, casting golden light across the mess of papers scattered on our kitchen table. News clippings, legal documents, speech drafts, evidence of the careful dance we'd been performing for the past four years.
I stood at the window, coffee mug warming my hands, watching the city below. A city that had changed so much since that day in the capital. A world that had learned monsters were real and was still struggling to decide what to do about it.
Arms wrapped around my waist from behind, and I smiled, leaning back into Lucian's embrace.
"You're up early," he murmured against my neck, right where his mark sat. Four years old now, but still as prominent as the day he'd given it to me. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Tomorrow's the summit," I said quietly. "How am I supposed to sleep?"
