Chapter 65 The Softest Ruin

• The sun’s climbed higher by the time her breathing evens out again — streaks of warm gold catching in the loose spill of her hair across his bare chest.
• Knox keeps his palm braced to her ribs, thumb stroking the curve where her pulse hums warm under skin he wants to claim so deep the ghosts can’t touch it again.
• She shifts — a soft drag of her knee against his thigh, a hitch in her breath when her nose nudges his collarbone.