ALEXIA – POV
Warmth.
That's the first thing I register. Not the cold, hard ground. Not the wind biting at my skin or the ache in my spine from curling into myself on the steps like some discarded animal.
Just… warmth.
Something soft brushing through my hair.
A hand?
And beneath me, solid muscle. A heartbeat. Steady. Human.
My breath catches.
I don't move. I'm afraid to. Afraid this is another dream—like the ones that lull me into safety just to shatter with screaming.
But this one feels different.
Slower.
Realer.
And then I smell him.
Leather. Cedarwood. A whisper of scotch.
Aiden.
My chest twists.
I don't open my eyes. I can't. Because if I do, this illusion might dissolve. And I—I need it right now. Just for a moment. Just to pretend.
He's holding me.
Not dragging me.
Not shouting.
Just… holding me.
