Skye’s POV
The morning felt… different. Not just a normal kind of different, but the kind you feel deep in your bones before you even open your eyes. Like the air itself was thicker, heavier, as if it already knew something had shifted between Damian and me.
It wasn’t just my imagination. I could still feel him, even now. The warmth of his touch seemed to cling to my skin as if it had soaked into me overnight, refusing to leave. When I closed my eyes, I could almost smell him—dark and woodsy and warm—just like last night. My dreams had been full of him, too. His voice whispering low in my ear, his hands holding my waist with that quiet, steady strength that made me feel both safe and completely exposed.
By the time I walked through the mansion gates, I was still half lost in that haze.
