The way his fingers traced soft, lingering circles against her waist, the warmth of his chest against her back—everything about him seemed to wrap around her, pulling her deeper into his embrace.
"But… I'm afraid I'll do something wrong," she whispered, the vulnerability in her voice raw, unguarded.
A soft, low chuckle rumbled against her shoulder. "The only wrong thing you could do, Lyra, is to hide yourself from me."
Her breath hitched. Slowly, she turned in his arms, her gaze rising to meet his. His emerald-green eyes held a tenderness that sent warmth cascading through her, a silent promise that he would never push her beyond what she wanted.
"Then… show me," she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper but laced with quiet courage. "Show me how."
Casian's gaze darkened, but his touch remained gentle, his fingers brushing against her cheek. "Only if you're certain," he whispered, his voice thick with longing but tempered with restraint.
