DESDEMONA

The door creaked open, slow and heavy, the footsteps approached me through the darkness.

It was him.

The man from the southern yard.

What is he doing here?

My breath hitched, my lips parted, but no words came out. My throat burned dry. I coughed softly, clutching my chest.

“Are you okay?” his voice broke the silence.

He came closer, bending down until his face was only inches from mine. His scent, warm, masculine wrapped around me. Without saying another word, he lifted me gently, his arms sliding under me as if I weighed nothing.

His body was warm. Mine was ice. The moment his skin brushed mine, a...