Morning bled in through the tall chamber windows, soft and golden, bathing Allen's room in a muted hush. But there was no peace.
The room still smelled like last night—sweat, spit, tears, sex. Fina stirred first, curling against Allen's chest, her leg slung over his hip, her skin warm and damp with sleep. Rinni was already awake, her cheek pressed to Allen's thigh, watching him with a lazy, sly smile, like she was thinking filthy things but hadn't decided whether to act on them yet. Elira lay at the foot of the bed, curled like a housecat in heat, body covered in dried messages and spit-streaks, face soft and dreamy.
