The room was dark, quiet except for the steady rhythm of Cyrus’s breathing. But Camilla wasn't asleep, she turned slowly, propping herself up on her elbow, watching Cyrus. The moonlight casted soft shadows across his face—so beautiful, so unaware, so charming. A lump rose in her throat again. She had to reach him–feel him. To Let him know she was there for him.

She leaned in, kissed his jaw gently, then traced her lips down to his neck, feeling the heat of his skin.

Cyrus stirred faintly but didn’t wake up–still on the edge of sleep, his body warm beneath the sheets. Camilla’s hands slid under the covers, found him...