Kieran

I wake to warmth and softness, and for one perfect moment, I don’t think. I just feel. Satiated, comfortable, whole in a way I haven’t been in so long.

Then, I look down.

Daciana is asleep in my arms, her dark hair spilled across my chest, one hand curled against my heart. The moonlight barely touches the room, but it’s enough. Enough to see the curve of her bare shoulder. The marks I left on her throat.

What have I done?

The memory crashes over me. Her cry in the night was faint, but I heard it through the stone walls separating our chambers. I’m always listening for her,...