Ariana's eyes fluttered open gently. She moved quietly, but they widened when she felt something lightly pressing against her chest. Her legs were draped around Zavren's waist.
She glanced down, and her breath caught. His midnight, disheveled silky hair tickled her skin near her chin—his face was pressed right against her chest.
Her cheeks burned instantly.
What made it worse was the shocking realization—it wasn't him who had leaned in. She was the one unconsciously holding him that way in her sleep.
She was in a nightgown. Zavren must have dressed her. But how had she forgotten herself enough to…
'Quietly leave,' she whispered to herself, knowing all too well how lightly Zavren slept. Still, she remained frozen for a second before carefully moving her hand to ease him off her.
But—why was it so hard?
Her body went still again as he instinctively burrowed his face deeper. Her heart thundered as his soft breath fanned her chest through the thin nightwear.
Oh, heaven…
