Sunlight streamed through the lace curtains, soft and warm against the tangled sheets that cocooned Aria and Lucien. Her body rested against his, skin-to-skin, hearts syncing in a rhythm that only true mates understood. The night had been slow and emotional, but the early morning—raw, needy, and filled with whispered apologies and rediscovered passion—had brought a different kind of closeness.

Lucien brushed her hair back from her face, his eyes warm but intense. “You still take my breath away,” he murmured.

Aria smiled lazily, her fingers tracing the lines of his chest. “Good. Because you still owe me breakfast in bed.”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her again,...