EVELYN’S POV
Morning sunlight spilled through the curtains in pale ribbons of gold, catching in strands of hair and tracing shifting patterns across bare skin.
For a long moment, I simply lay there and stared.
Lucian slept on his stomach beside me, one arm tucked beneath the pillow and the other stretched lazily across the mattress between us, his face turned toward me as though even unconsciousness had not quite erased the instinct that had drawn him closer during the night.
I wasn't sure I had ever seen him peaceful before.
Even while he was in the clinic, there had been tension lingering around him like a shadow that refused to let go.
But this was different.
The hard lines of his face had softened beneath sleep's mercy. The perpetual strain I had come to associate with him was gone, leaving behind a man who looked younger and infinitely more vulnerable.
Gods, he was beautiful.
