Malric's Pov

Some people may call it madness.

Some people may call it obsession.

I don't care what they call it.

I sat there in the shadows, watching her sleep. Her chestnut-brown hair spilled across her face like a curtain, soft waves moving slightly with each breath. Her breathing was calm, rhythmic, and it drew me in like a spell I couldn't break.

She looked fragile like this. Untouchable. But gods, she wasn't untouchable. Not to me.

The thin nightdress she wore did little to hide her curves, and the sight alone tested every ounce of restraint I possessed.

My body burned for her, every part of me screaming to...