Aluna did not sleep.
She lay on the unfamiliar bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the silence that separated her from him.
The guest room had always existed.
But she had never used it.
It had been part of the penthouse the way empty rooms existed in museums. Present, but irrelevant.
Now it felt like the only place she could breathe.
Her fingers rested lightly over her abdomen.
The truth lived there.
Silent.
Unaware of the war it had already begun.
Her chest tightened.
Nothing in her life belonged entirely to her anymore.
Not her job.
Not her safety.
Not even this child.
A quiet knock echoed against the door.
She froze.
Her heart immediately recognizing the presence on the other side.
He did not knock twice.
He never needed to.
“I know you’re awake,” Arka said qui
