The morning came soft and golden, sunlight spilling through the half-open shutters. Birds were already singing in the garden outside, their little chirps a playful chorus to a far less innocent chamber.
Aiden opened his eyes slowly, his silver irises glowing faintly with ember, like coals that never died.
His chest rose with a deep, satisfied breath. His heart burned hot, but full—satiated, at least for now.
"Mmm…" Flora moaned faintly, still half-asleep, her messy hair brushing against his jaw as she snuggled deeper against his chest. Her legs clung to him like ivy to stone, soft skin pressing into his sore muscles.
"Fu…me…Ai…den," another voice murmured dreamily, Luna whispering his name in her sleep, her breath hot against his arm.
Aiden allowed himself a faint smile, though exhaustion was written across his body. His muscles ached in protest from two long days of relentless training—and even longer nights of going round after round, course after course, until dawn broke.
