Verret’s Pov

The room was dark except for the faint shimmer of moonlight spilling through the tall windows. Delilah was asleep on my bed, her breathing soft and steady, the kind of calm I hadn’t known in centuries.

I should’ve stayed on the couch. It would’ve been easier. Safer. But something in me refused to leave her side. Just knowing she was there — alive, warm, real — felt like a balm I didn’t deserve.

Her presence made me restless. Made the air too heavy. Every time she shifted in her sleep, my pulse betrayed me. Her scent clung to the sheets, to me, and to every corner of my...