Aurora's POV
I woke before the sun.
Not with panic this time, not with the sharp gasp of memory tearing me from sleep, but with a quiet awareness that felt unfamiliar in its calm. The room was dim, the air cool against my skin, and for a few long seconds I simply lay there, listening to the steady rhythm of breathing beside me.
Stefano was asleep.
That alone felt like a small miracle.
He lay on his back, one arm flung loosely across the furs, his face softened by rest in a way I rarely saw anymore. The crease between his brows was still there, faint but stubborn, as if even sleep hadn't fully convinced him the danger had passed. His hair fell across his forehead in a way that made him look younger, almost like the man I met before the world began demanding blood and decisions.
