Morning sunlight seeped through the heavy curtains, filtering into a golden haze across the stone floor. I wasn't ready to wake up—not yet. Wrapped in warmth, my head rested against Theo's chest, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing calming my own frayed edges.
His arm curled protectively around me as if to guard me from the troubles that would no doubt crash through the door at any moment. And they did.
A firm knock jarred me awake.
"Idalia," Soren's voice, deep and clipped, carried through the chamber door. I didn't move. I wasn't ready to face him—or anyone for that matter.
The knock came again, harder this time.
"Idalia, open up. It's urgent."
Theo shifted beneath me, his voice sleep-soft. "Shall I see to it?"
I shook my head. "No." My voice was a whisper. I didn't want to deal with Soren, but letting Theo answer the door would be worse. I knew Soren's temper and his ability to read into every single detail.