Violet woke up, startled, feeling a firm pressure around her waist that left no doubt who it belonged to. She raised her head hesitantly, her eyes locking onto Cain's face, only to notice the state of the room. The walls bore familiar claw marks, a chaotic tapestry of destruction. Yet, what unnerved her most was how silently the damage had been inflicted—so quiet that it hadn't even disturbed her sleep.
Honestly, he can be pretty considerate when he wants to be, she thought, the observation as unsettling as it was true. Turning her gaze back to him, she was surprised to see Cain fast asleep. His chest rose and fell steadily, and the firm grip he had on her had slackened ever so slightly.