That’s mine, all of it.

Dylan’s POV

She was limp in my arms, body glistening with sweat, face buried in my neck, breath warm against my collarbone.

We were both still naked—our bodies tangled on the couch like animals in the aftermath of war. Her thighs were streaked with the evidence of what we’d done, her skin still flushed, her heart still racing beneath the curve of her ribs. But she didn’t speak.

Not a word.

The fire crackled low, shadows dancing across the wooden beams overhead. Her body rested on mine, but her mind… her mind was somewhere else.

And I felt it. Every mile she drifted.

I didn’t move. I just held her tighter. Listened to her breathing, counted the pauses between each inhale. Silence had never felt this loud.

Her fingers were still curled slightly at my chest, but there was no pressure behind them now. Just her hand resting there like a forgotten memory.

I exhaled, dragged my palm up her spine, and whispered, “You’re quiet.”

She didn’t answer.

“Tell me what’s in your head, Kara.”

Still not