Eldur's POV
The soft glow of the bedside lamp spilled over her skin like honey, warm and golden, tracing every curve like it knew her better than I did; and I couldn't look away.
Nova had drifted off in my arms, curled up against my chest with her head beneath my chin. Her breathing was slow and steady, like even the monsters hiding in the corners of the world had gone quiet for her. Like she believed, deep down, that I could keep her safe. That I was worth trusting.
Me.
The guy with silver eyes and too many ghosts.
The one who used to laugh when others cried. Who made a game out of fear. Who didn't know the first thing about love—until her.
But now, with her heat seeping into me, with her body pressed gently against mine, I felt something shift. If I so much as breathed wrong, I might shatter. Not from discomfort—but from the terrifying realization that I'd finally found something I didn't want to ruin.
Something I wanted to protect.
Someone I didn't want to lose.
