The dawn crept quietly into the grand bedroom, brushing the edges of the heavy velvet curtains with a soft gold light. Elena lay tangled in the sheets, her body still humming with the raw fire of last night’s closeness with Enzo. His fingers traced languid patterns along her arm, anchoring them both in a rare moment of fragile calm.

Her gaze met his, tired but fierce, and a thousand unspoken words hung between them.

“We can’t keep hiding in these moments,” Elena whispered, voice thick with everything they hadn’t yet dared say. “The war’s closing in faster than we thought.”

Enzo’s jaw clenched, the scars beneath his shirt seeming to...