ALANAI didn’t really sleep.My body wanted to — begged to — but my mind hovered in that thin, trembling space between rest and vigilance. Every time I drifted toward unconsciousness, something cold tugged me back, like a warning threaded through my veins.So I stayed there, in the darkness, pressed against the warmth of Zach’s chest, listening to his heartbeat pound harder than any resting pulse should.He slept like a man fighting demons behind closed eyes.His jaw was tight even in sleep. His arm locked around me like he expected someone to rip me away at any second. And every so often, he made this small, broken sound — too soft to be a groan, too sharp to be breath — as if something chased him even here.I watched his face in the dim light, tracing every line, every shadow.He looked younger like this.Vulnerable.Human in a way the world never got to see.And God, it hurt.Because I knew that the moment he woke, he’d armor himself again. He’d bury this softness beneath steel and
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