The moment Lyra settled between Casian's legs, warmth flushed through her, a subtle heat spreading across her cheeks. Her back gently rested against his firm chest, and his strong arm wrapped securely around her waist.
"Relax," he whispered against her ear, his breath brushing her skin, sending a delightful shiver down her spine.
Despite their bond—already sealed and recognized—every touch, every brush of their skin, carried a strange, undeniable sense of familiarity. It was both comforting and overwhelming.
Lyra nodded, nestling her head on his shoulder. She didn't remember much of what happened when she lost consciousness, only the chaos that followed. But Casian's firm assertion that Penny had tried to harm her didn't make sense. She couldn't even begin to believe it.
Penny—her loyal attendant would never… would she? The woman who had sworn to serve her, the one Casian himself had assigned to watch over her. And yet, Penny's absence gnawed at her, a void she couldn't ignore.
