The first thing Leo felt was warmth.
It wasn't the scorching heat of a dragon's breath or the feverish burn of a battle wound. It was soft, enveloping, and smelled faintly of lavender and fresh linen.
He groaned, burying his face deeper into the pillow, trying to hold onto the last second of sleep.
His body felt heavy, pleasantly exhausted from the previous night's activities. The memories of Belladonna in the town square, the magic trick, and the subsequent marathon in the penthouse played in his mind like a highlight reel.
"Wake up, sleepyhead."
Suddenly a soft, melodic voice that felt far too cheerful for the morning surprised him.
Slowly he cracked one eye open to look.
The room was bathed in the golden light of late morning. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams that streamed through the heavy velvet curtains of the Gilded Lily's penthouse suite.
And there, leaning over him, was his beautiful Seraphine.
She looked radiant as ever.
