(R-18 Mature Scenes)
(Almera POV)
I woke to unease.
Not the sharp kind that came with prophecy—but a slow, crawling wrongness that pressed against my skin.
Romulus lay beside me, yet he was not resting.
His body shifted restlessly against the sheets, muscles tightening and loosening as if caught in an unseen struggle. His breathing was uneven. Short and forced. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead despite the cool air of the chamber.
"Romulus…" I whispered.
No response.
I touched his shoulder.
He flinched—not awake, but not truly asleep either. His brow furrowed, lips parting as if to speak, yet no sound came. His hand clenched into the sheets, knuckles whitening.
Something was wrong.
I pushed myself upright, heart pounding. I had seen this before.
Not like this—but close enough to recognize the shadow of it.
"Romulus," I said more firmly, shaking him gently.
Still nothing.
A cold realization settled in my chest.
