Zion's POV
I opened my eyes before she did.
Dawn was still breaking, casting pale silver light through the window that seemed to worship every curve of her sleeping form.
She rested against me, dark hair fanned across the pillow, long lashes shadowing her cheeks.
Windsor.
I had no idea what cosmic forces aligned to let me wake beside her, but one truth burned in my chest: I would fight to keep this forever.
My fingers traced through her hair, careful not to wake her. Her breathing came soft and even, her bare shoulder rising with each peaceful breath.
No mate bond connected us. We shared no mystical glow from the Moon Goddess, no fated pull that legends spoke of.
None of that mattered.
Every cell in my body screamed that she belonged to me.
I had never found my destined mate, and likely never would.
If the Moon Goddess existed—if she cared about broken souls like mine—I begged her to make Windsor mine in every way that counted.
