Chapter 88

• The room breathed with heat and quiet shadow, lit only by the dying glow of the hearth. Rain whispered against the windows, soft and relentless, like fingers tracing glass. Ariana closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, her heart stumbling in her chest.
• She could still feel the moon’s mark burning just beneath her skin—a soft, pulsing warmth that did not fade.
• Demion stood at the window, shoulders tense, breathing controlled, the way only a man who was trying not to break could breathe. Water clung to his hair, ran down his throat, and darkened the linen of his shirt where it clung to his chest and arms. He didn’t turn yet—but she knew he had heard her.