The soft hush of flickering candles filled the chamber when Nerine stirred from her sleep. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks as if resisting the world for just one more moment of peace. The warmth of the blanket clung to her, carrying the faint scent of lavender and woodsmoke. Slowly, she blinked into the dim room.
Her gaze found Kael.
He was seated in the chair across from her bed, his posture impossibly rigid for one at rest. His arms were folded across his chest, legs stretched before him, his face carved in shadows that softened his sharpness just slightly. At first, she thought he was asleep. But the closer she looked, the more it seemed impossible for someone to find comfort in such a position.
Nerine sat up carefully, gathering the blanket around her shoulders. There was something almost painful about watching him like that—this powerful, unyielding man balanced on the edge of the chair, as though even sleep could not claim him fully.
