CHAPTER 81Calla's POVHis name echoed in my head for the rest of the day.Dorian Black.Even his name was dangerous, smooth and dark, like expensive whiskey. I caught myself whispering it under my breath while folding Isobel's laundry, then froze, horrified at what I was doing.Stop it, I told myself firmly. You're exhausted. Hormonal. Lonely. That's all this is.But my skin still tingled where his eyes had touched me. And no amount of self-talk could erase the memory of that moment, the world falling away, the electric charge, the sense of being seen for the first time in months.I tried to focus on other things.Isobel needed help with her astronomy project. Eleanor's NICU nurse called with an update: another ounce gained, another small victory. Anya needed decisions about meals, about schedules, about the thousand small details that kept a household running.But through it all, Dorian's face hovered at the edges of my consciousness. Those green eyes. That voice. The way he'd said
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