ELARA POVI wake before the sun breaks over the cliffs.Zane’s still beside me, chest rising in steady rhythm, lips slightly parted in sleep. He looks younger like this. Softer. Like the version of him I imagined when I was sixteen, an omega, foolish and thought a mate could be my rescue plan.That girl is gone and she died the night I ran.But this version of me the one forged through blood, pain, and survival, still watches him breathe.And when I realize our fingers are tangled together, I don’t pull away.Not yet.Zane soon stirs, his eyes open slowly, gold catching the faint light like a flicker of fire.“You stayed,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.I don’t answer right away. Because the truth is, I almost didn’t.I almost told him to leave, twice and both times… I couldn’t do it.Instead, I squeeze his hand. Just once.He closes his eyes again like he’s storing that single moment somewhere sacred. Like he thinks it means more than I’m willing to admit.The morning is unusual
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