VIOLET
The moonlight slipped through the curtains, casting a pale glow across the room. The fire had burned low, but I could still feel its warmth—or maybe it was just him.
Zain stood near the window, shirtless, shoulders tense as if holding up the world. He hadn't spoken in minutes, just stared out like the forest might steal me before morning.
"Come back to bed," I whispered, pulling the sheet around me.
His eyes met mine, and gods—there was so much in them. Hunger, fear, love. All tangled like thorns around a bleeding heart.
"I should've stopped you," he said hoarsely. "Tied you to this bed. Locked the doors."
I gave him a soft smile, even as it twisted something deep inside me. "And you think I wouldn't have burned the place down to get out?"
That earned the faintest grin. But only for a moment.
"I'll hate every second you're gone."
