Warm soft sunlight filtered through the frosted windows of the cottage, and for a brief moment, as Aria stirred, the air grew still for a moment.

Aria woke up with a frown on her face.

The cold greeted her as her eyes fluttered open.

The warmth was gone. Not the warmth of the hearth; no, it was still burning. It was a different type of warmth, a more intimate one.

Lucien was gone.

She didn’t even need to glance around the room. She could feel it, he wasn’t in the cottage. Her fingers brushed over the fur blanket and, for a very brief moment, she wanted to stay there. But...