Klara woke slowly.

The first thing she noticed was the weight on her wrists — soft leather cuffs, not tight enough to bruise but tight enough to remind her they were there.

The second thing was the smell: bacon, coffee, something warm and domestic that had no business being here.

She blinked against the dim light.

Alec stood at the edge of the bed, tray balanced in his palm now, watching her with the same calm patience he used to watch her sleep when they were happily married.

Her eyes opened fully now, and the blur faded away. She blinked once, twice, and by the third time, Alec’s face came...