Chapter Thirty: A New Morning
Isabelle opened her eyes slowly like they had been weighted down by hours of darkness.
Some heavy curtains blocked out most of the morning light, but she could still tell it was day. Her body felt warm.
The sheets were thicker, softer. She wasn't in her own bed.
She turned her head.
Reign was there. Lying on his side, arm tucked under his head, still wearing yesterday's shirt, wrinkled and untucked.
His hair looked like it had been through a tornado. His eyes were closed, but his breathing was uneven, not calm like someone asleep. More like someone pretending.
Her heart jumped in her chest. And before she could question anything else, something even stronger pushed her out of the bed — laughter.
Tiny, sweet, echoing laughter.
Her legs moved on instinct. Isabelle shot out of the bed, ignoring the ache in her bones, rushing toward the sound.
