Iris I woke slowly. Not to fear. Not to panic. But to warmth. For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was. My cheek rested against something solid and steady, and there was a low, rhythmic sound beneath my ear, breathing. Calm. Deep. Untroubled. Then it came back to me. Adrian’s house. The couch. The quiet night we’d carved out of chaos. I lifted my head slightly. He was still asleep. The early morning light filtered softly through the curtains, painting his face in pale gold. His arm was still around me, loose but protective, as though even in sleep he wasn’t willing to risk losing contact. I stayed still, studying him. I’d seen Adrian angry. Controlled. Reckless. Defensive. But I’d never seen him unguarded like this. His hair was slightly disheveled, one dark strand falling across his forehead. His jaw, usually tense, was relaxed. There was faint bruising beginning to bloom along his cheekbone from Lucien’s punch. My chest tightened at the sight. “He hit you,” I whis
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