Rogue's snarl ripped through the air as his predatory instincts flared, his gaze snapping to Sting with fury. The sight of his friend standing there, uninvited, eyes locked on Lilithe in her near-nude state, ignited something primal within him. His shadows surged forward instinctively, swirling around them like a protective veil, blocking Sting's view and shielding Lilithe from any prying eyes.

In one swift movement, Rogue grabbed his discarded cloak and gently wrapped it around Lilithe's trembling frame, his touch protective and tender despite the possessive growl that still lingered in his throat. The moment his fingers brushed her skin, he felt the tension drain from her, her body leaning into his as if seeking comfort and protection from the darkness they had both nearly succumbed to.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice a rough whisper, laced with concern and lingering desire.

Lilithe didn't speak at first, merely nodding, her earlier confidence and wildness dissolving into something softer, something more familiar. Her eyes, which moments ago had gleamed with lust and that unnerving darkness, now held a hesitant, almost timid glimmer. The bold, dangerous woman who had been riding the wave of her power just moments before now stood meekly before him, her body trembling under the weight of her own emotions.

Rogue watched the transformation with a mix of fascination and concern. The fiery, powerful queen was gone, replaced by the Lilithe he had known before—shy, delicate, her cheeks flushed with a deep, innocent pink. She slipped behind him, seeking refuge in his shadow, as if suddenly aware of how vulnerable she had been. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his cloak, holding onto it as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded.

The way she seemed to shrink behind him tugged at something deep within Rogue. He felt her slipping back into her more fragile self, the darkness in her eyes receding like a tide, leaving only the soft and uncertain woman he had sworn to protect. Her earlier boldness was gone, and all that remained was the Lilithe who looked to him for safety.

Rogue let his shadows dissipate, pulling them back into himself. The warmth of her body pressed against his back settled his senses, her breath soft and shaky as she hid from Sting's gaze.

Lilithe buried her face into his bare shoulderblade, her hands wrapped around him, as if she needed to be close to him to feel safe again. The shift in her demeanor was striking—she had gone from the powerful, commanding queen to a girl seeking comfort, her vulnerability laid bare.

Sting, standing a few feet away, kept his distance, clearly aware of the tension in the room. He had seen Rogue's anger, but he also recognized the need for caution. He took a step back, his jaw tight but his expression softening as he understood what had just transpired.

"Rogue... I didn't mean to interrupt, but this—we have more pressing matters at hand," Sting said quietly, keeping his voice low as his eyes darted to Lilithe.

"Get out," Rogue growled softly, Lilithe clung to him. His voice carried no malice this time, only a quiet demand, as if the world outside didn't matter anymore.

Only she did.

Sting hesitated for a moment, then nodded, understanding. "I'll give you space. But Rogue, we need answers soon."

With Sting gone and the room once again quiet, Rogue let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His heart still pounded, the remnants of their intense moment hanging in the air. The dim light cast long shadows across the room, and all Rogue could focus on was Lilithe—the way she clung to him as if he were her anchor in a storm.

"Rogue…" Her voice was soft, fragile, like she was unsure of her place in this moment. She peered up at him from beneath the dark folds of his cloak, her wide eyes shimmering with an unspoken need. Her lips trembled slightly as she pressed her face against his shoulder, seeking comfort. "I have missed you," she whispered, her breath warm against his skin.

The words pierced Rogue, hitting him deeper than he had expected. He placed his hand over hers, gently squeezing her fingers that still gripped the fabric of his cloak. It was a small gesture, but in that moment, it spoke volumes.

"I'm sorry for not being here when you woke up," Rogue turned to face her fully, his voice thick with guilt. He hadn't been there when she needed him the most, and it weighed heavily on him.

Lilithe shook her head, her dark hair falling in soft waves around her face. She reached up to cup his cheek, her touch light but reassuring. "Please don't apologize," she murmured, her voice filled with understanding. "I know something must have kept you from me. You would have been by my side if you could."

Her words eased some of the tension in his chest, but it didn't quell the storm that raged inside him. He took her hand, brushing her knuckles with his thumb before raising his other hand to gently sweep her hair out of her face. Her skin was pale, her eyes tired yet full of determination.

"Sting is right, though," Rogue said softly, his voice carrying the weight of the truth they couldn't escape. He held her gaze, his hand lingering on her cheek as if he were afraid to let go. "We need to talk about what's happened—what's really going on."

Lilithe leaned into his touch, closing her eyes briefly as if savoring the warmth of his hand. When she opened them again, they were filled with a quiet resolve. "I don't know much," she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "I only woke up today, and everything feels… different."

Her eyes darkened for a moment, a flicker of something Rogue couldn't quite place crossing her face before she continued. "Marian told me Cedric has been locking himself away with the council since the night of the Starlight Festival. He's been pushing through decrees, trying to consolidate power while I was incapacitated."

Rogue's jaw tightened at the mention of Cedric's name. That snake had been moving behind the scenes, using Lilithe's weakened state to his advantage. He had always known Cedric was ambitious, but this—this was a betrayal far deeper than he had anticipated.

"And the council allowed this?" Rogue asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Lilithe nodded, her expression grim. "It seems many of them are either too frightened to oppose him or are in on his plans. I don't know who I can trust anymore." She looked down at her lap, her fingers twisting in the fabric of his cloak. "But I do know this—Cedric has been moving faster than I ever anticipated. He's trying to seize control of the kingdom, and I can't let that happen."

Rogue's hand dropped to her chin, gently tilting her face up so their eyes met again. "You won't have to face him alone," he vowed, his voice steady. "We'll stop him. But we need to be smart about it. Whatever darkness is inside him, whatever hold he has over the council, we'll break it."

Lilithe's lips quirked into a small, sad smile. "You always know how to make me feel safe," she whispered, leaning into his touch once more. "But we need more than just strength this time, Rogue. We need allies—people we can trust."

"I know," Rogue agreed, his mind already racing with strategies. "Jessamine is on our side, and we'll find others. We'll expose Cedric for what he is."

He paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on her face. There was something else, something deeper within her that she wasn't saying. He could feel it, like a shadow lurking just beneath the surface.

"Lilithe…" He hesitated, his thumb brushing her cheek. "There's something else, isn't there? Something about you feels… different."

Lilithe stiffened slightly at his words, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. She pulled back, wrapping the cloak tighter around herself as if trying to shield her vulnerability. "I've felt it too," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Since I woke up, there's been this… darkness inside me. It's like a part of me that I've never known before. It's growing, and I don't know what it means."

Rogue's heart clenched at the sight of her uncertainty, the fear that she was hiding behind her strong facade. He reached out, pulling her back into his arms, holding her tightly. "Whatever it is," he murmured into her hair, "we'll face it together. I'm not leaving your side, Lilithe. Not now. Not ever."

Rogue could feel the tremors in Lilithe's body, the slight shiver of fear she was trying so desperately to keep at bay. He held her closer, his arms encircling her slender frame, a protective warmth enveloping them both. In his embrace, she felt fragile, but he knew better. Lilithe was a storm held within a delicate form, and he would ensure that whatever darkness loomed over them, it would never touch her—not while he still drew breath.

"We'll figure this out," Rogue repeated, his voice low but unwavering. His hand moved in slow, soothing strokes along her back. "Together."

Lilithe nodded against his chest, her breath warm as it brushed against the fabric of his shirt. "I have faith in you," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with a quiet strength. She lingered for a moment longer in his arms, then slowly pulled away, though not without some reluctance.

Rogue watched her closely, his gaze following her every movement as she stood, her posture now more composed, though he could still sense the tension in her. "Lucy would like to speak with you," he said.. "As do Mephisto and Bastien."

His eyes darkened at the mention of them. There was so much left unresolved, so many pieces of this twisted puzzle yet to be uncovered. But for now, his concern was Lilithe. She moved toward the wardrobe, her movements slow, and Rogue could see the exhaustion in every step. He stood silently for a moment, watching her as she reached for the handle.

As she opened the wardrobe, revealing her gowns and cloaks, Lilithe hesitated. She stared at the array of clothing for a moment, her fingers lightly brushing over the fabric of one gown, before she let out a small, quiet sigh. "I need to change out of this," she murmured, glancing down at the cloak she wore that covered her bare form.

Rogue stepped forward, his presence calm yet undeniably magnetic. "Let me help you," he murmured, his voice soft, yet tinged with a confidence that made Lilithe's pulse quicken. He moved closer, his fingers already brushing against the clasps of his cloak, ready to assist.

She flushed, glancing away for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "I'm nearly nude underneath," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Rogue's lips. "Before we were interrupted, you had no problem with me seeing your flesh," he teased, his voice low and amused, the memory of their earlier encounter still lingering between them.

Lilithe cleared her throat, her cheeks warming. "You're correct," she conceded, her own lips twitching into a faint smile, though the tension between them was unmistakable.

With a smirk still playing on his lips, Rogue's hand moved to the clasp of her cloak. One by one, he unfastened them, his movements slow and deliberate. Each click of the metal seemed louder in the quiet of the room, a reminder of the intimacy shared between them. The fabric fell away, pooling silently at her feet like shadows retreating from the light.

The moonlight streamed in through the window, bathing Lilithe in a soft, ethereal glow. She stood before him, her figure illuminated in the pale light, clothed only in delicate lace—a brazier and panties that did little to hide her beauty. And yet, despite her nearly exposed form, Rogue's eyes remained focused not on her body, but on the necklace around her neck.

Rogue's breath hitched as his eyes locked onto the pendant—a deep ruby that shimmered faintly in the moonlight. It wasn't just any necklace; it was the one he had gifted her, a symbol of protection, of his promise to her. And now, that very necklace had saved her life just a week ago. His fingers brushed against the smooth, cool surface of the ruby as his hand reached out instinctively, grasping it between his thumb and forefinger.

"You continued to wear it," he murmured, his voice a mixture of awe and quiet reverence. He hadn't realized how much it meant to him that she had kept it close all this time. His thumb slowly traced the edges of the gemstone, the rich red glow reflecting the flickering moonlight as the black shadow swirling inside her..

Lilithe glanced down at the pendant, her lips parting slightly as her eyes softened. "Of course I did," she whispered, her hand moving to gently cover his. "It was more than a gift, Rogue. It was a reminder—of you, of your promise. It kept me safe."

His heart clenched at her words.

The darkness swirling in him from before, the one that had threatened to consume him, seemed to ebb slightly as he stared at the ruby that now hung between them. He remembered the night he gave it to her, the weight of the decision, the unspoken bond that had formed between them in that moment.

"When I gave it to you," he began, his voice low, "I knew it had power. But I didn't realize… I didn't know it would protect you like that." His fingers tightened around the ruby, the weight of what had happened pressing heavily on him. "I wasn't there when you needed me most. But this... it was."

Lilithe's hand gently squeezed his, pulling him from his thoughts. "You were there, Rogue," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Even if not in person, you were with me. I felt you every moment I was fighting for my life."

His gaze lifted to hers, eyes dark and intense as he searched her face for something—reassurance, perhaps, or understanding. Her words stirred something deep within him, and the weight of his guilt began to ease ever so slightly.

"Let's get you dressed," he smiled, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

Lucy had given both Mephisto and Bastien fresh clothes when they woke up, offering them some semblance of normalcy after the nightmare they had endured. They took turns showering and freshening up, the sound of running water a soothing backdrop to the otherwise tense atmosphere. When they emerged, clean but clearly still haunted by their recent ordeal, Marian had delivered them trays of food. Lucy suspected Lilithe had sent for it, especially when Marian winked at her before swiftly departing the room.

By the window, the Exceeds were quietly playing cards, their soft murmurs and occasional laughter the only sounds filling the space. Lucy ran a hand through her hair, her exhaustion catching up with her. She was tired—physically, mentally—and all she wanted was to collapse into bed. But something in the air told her that rest wouldn't come easily, not yet.

Mephisto and Bastien, sitting at the small table, were quiet as they ate their food. Their silence unnerved Lucy. She couldn't help but wonder what had been done to them while they were imprisoned. Their usually sharp eyes were dulled, their expressions hollow, and every so often, one of them would glance at the other, as if checking to make sure they were still there, still alive.

The door creaked open, and Sting walked in, a dark bruise marring his cheek. Behind him followed Rogue, his eyes simmering with irritation, and Lilithe, who was flushed a deep crimson. Lucy immediately perked up, eyeing the trio with curiosity.

"What happened?" Lucy asked, raising a brow at the obvious tension between Rogue and Sting.

Sting chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I might have walked in on the—"

Before he could finish, Rogue, without hesitation, smacked Sting across the back of the head, hard enough to make a sharp sound echo through the room.

"Finish that sentence," Rogue growled, eyes dark and dangerous, "and I won't hesitate to run this blade through you."

Lucy snorted, unable to suppress the laugh bubbling up at the sight of Sting rubbing his head, trying and failing to look wounded. The tension lightened a little as even Mephisto and Bastien, who had been stoic and silent since waking, finally cracked small smiles, their amusement peeking through their weariness.

But Lilithe, her eyes soft with emotion, immediately left Rogue's side and rushed toward Mephisto and Bastien. The moment they saw her coming, both men stood from the table, their movements slow but steady. Lilithe threw her arms around them, pulling them into a tight embrace, and for the first time since awakening, Lucy saw a flicker of the old Lilithe—the one full of compassion and warmth.

"I was so worried about you," Lilithe choked, her voice trembling as she held onto them like she was afraid they'd slip away. "Marian told me that you two had been arrested, that Rogue disappeared searching for you, and I thought—I thought you all had died."

Bastien, ever stoic, softened as he placed a gentle hand on her head, ruffling her hair the way an older brother might. "We're not that easy to kill," he said quietly, his voice gruff but affectionate.

Mephisto, the more reserved of the two, closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of Lilithe's head, his hand mirroring Bastien's in a quiet show of affection. "We're here now," he whispered, his voice carrying the weight of everything unspoken. "That's all that matters."

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the warmth of their embrace spreading to everyone. Even the Exceeds paused their game to watch the reunion unfold, their small faces showing relief and understanding.

Lucy leaned back, her heart swelling at the sight of Lilithe finally reuniting with her cousin and fake fiance. She could see how much they meant to her, how deeply Lilithe's worry had run. Watching them, Lucy felt a sense of hope bloom in her chest.

As Lilithe stood before them, her face blotchy from crying, her voice wavered as she asked, "Who hurt you? Who did this?" The tremor in her words was heavy, filled with grief and barely restrained fury. Her fingers twitched against the fabric of her cloak as if already reaching for the darkness that lingered beneath her skin, begging to be unleashed.

Mephisto and Bastien exchanged a quick glance, a silent conversation passing between them, before they both turned to Rogue. He gave a curt nod.

Bastien broke the silence first, his voice deep and steady, but laced with anger. "Cedric refused to kill us outright. He was using us as bait—to lure Sting and Lucy back to the castle, planning to capture and execute all of us together."

Lucy's sharp inhale echoed in the room, but all of Lilithe's focus was on the two men in front of her. Her knuckles whitened as she clutched at her cloak, her breathing shallow. The grief in her eyes darkened, shifting into something more dangerous.

"He gave Mephisto a choice," Bastien continued, his voice rough with the weight of the memory. "Live as his heir if he agreed to execute us personally, under the charge of attempting to murder the Queen."

Lilithe's body tensed, her lips trembling. She turned to Mephisto, her gaze desperate for an answer, for something to make it all make sense.

Mephisto's jaw clenched, his usually calm features hardened by the memory. "I refused," he said, his voice low. "Again and again. So Cedric… made sure I had incentive to change my mind. He had the guards beat us repeatedly, hoping I'd finally give in." His eyes flickered toward Lilithe, a rare vulnerability showing through. "But I wouldn't."

As the words sank in, Rogue's eyes flickered to Lilithe, feeling the atmosphere around her shift. He noticed the subtle change in her posture, the slight tremor in her fingers as she gripped the edge of her cloak tighter. Her breath became uneven, and her eyes—those eyes that just moments ago had shown warmth and worry—were now tinged with a creeping, sinister darkness.

Rogue's senses heightened, his instincts flaring to life. He had felt this before. That same oppressive, inescapable pull of shadow and chaos—the kind of energy he'd faced when he came face to face with his future self, the future version of him that had given in to the very darkness that now flickered behind Lilithe's gaze.

"Lilithe…" Rogue murmured softly, but his voice barely seemed to reach her. Her eyes, clouded with fury and determination, seemed to be lost in thought, calculating her next move.

She sniffled, brushing away the last remnants of tears. "I need to figure out what Cedric has been doing," she began, her voice steady but sharp with resolve. "Luckily for me, he's been careless this past week. Finding evidence to prove his betrayal and treachery won't be too difficult. From there, I can uncover his conspirators. Lord Silvius and Lord Quinwell were just the beginning."

"Lord Quinwell?" Sting piped up, casually flopping onto the couch, his head landing in Lucy's lap. He stretched out, seemingly nonchalant, but his eyes gleamed with interest. "That old dude you had executed on the first day of the festival?"

Lilithe nodded, settling into the chair by the fire. Her fingers trailed along the armrest as she recalled the events of the Starlight Festival. "Yes, the very one. His connections to Cedric ran deeper than we first thought. Lady Jessamine has been looking into his affairs, along with Lord Silvius's, and it seems they were both linked to Cedric's plans."

Lucy stroked Sting's hair absentmindedly, her brow furrowed. "So you're saying there are more? More courtiers involved?"

"Without a doubt," Lilithe confirmed, her eyes narrowing. "There are bound to be others. Cedric wouldn't have moved without securing more allies. We're dealing with a much larger network of betrayal."

Rogue listened in silence, his gaze never leaving Lilithe. He could see the shift in her—how her grief and anger were slowly morphing into determination. There was something almost ruthless in her now, but he could still sense the weight of her emotions beneath the surface.

"We need to act quickly," Lilithe continued. "Jessamine has already gathered some information, but Cedric's supporters will catch on soon enough. Bastien, Mephisto..." She turned to the two men, her expression softening as she regarded them, but her tone was firm. "You'll both need to disguise yourselves as bodyguards for Lady Jessamine."

Bastien raised an eyebrow. "Bodyguards?"

"It's the only way you'll avoid getting captured or worse," Lilithe explained. "If Cedric realizes you're alive, he'll have you executed on sight. Disguising yourselves as part of Jessamine's retinue is the safest way to keep you close while we work."

Mephisto leaned forward, his gaze hardening. "And what about Cedric? What's the plan once we gather enough evidence?"

Lilithe met his gaze, her own eyes glinting with a quiet intensity. "We take him down. Publicly. Once we expose his crimes and his allies, he'll lose the support of the court. We'll dismantle his network, piece by piece. But we have to be careful. If we move too soon or too recklessly, we'll lose everything."

Bastien exhaled slowly, nodding in agreement. "Disguising ourselves it is, then. I trust Jessamine's instincts."

Rogue's eyes flickered to Lilithe, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Looks like you've already thought this through."

"I've had plenty of time," Lilithe replied, her expression softening as she met his gaze. "And I can't afford to lose anyone else."

The room fell into a tense but hopeful silence as Lilithe's words sank in. They all knew the danger ahead, but with Lilithe's plan in motion, there was a sense of clarity—a way forward through the darkness that Cedric had cast over them.

Lucy's fingers stilled in Sting's hair, her eyes flickering from one face to the next. "We're with you, Lilithe," she said quietly. "All of us."

Lilithe nodded, her gaze sweeping across them, finally resting on Mephisto and Bastien. "Then we move forward together."

Sting frowned, sitting up slightly as confusion crossed his face. "Wait a second. If you're Queen, Lilithe, why do they need to hide? Your word is supposed to be law, right?"

Lilithe sighed, shaking her head softly. "It should be," she agreed, "but things are more complicated than that. Cedric has built up influence within the court, and even Mephisto's own men have turned against him. If I act against Cedric without solid proof, many will believe it's just me trying to remove him because he stands for the old ways. They'll see it as political maneuvering, not justice."

Sting sat back, a troubled look on his face as he processed her words. "So, if you try to move against Cedric now, it could backfire?"

"Yes," Lilithe confirmed. "If I don't have undeniable proof of his treachery, arresting him would only fuel division in the kingdom. Cedric is too cunning to be taken down with accusations alone. I need evidence—something that no one can dispute. Until we find that, we have to be careful."

Mephisto nodded gravely, his expression hard. "She's right," he said. "Cedric knows how to manipulate the situation. Even if Lilithe orders his arrest, my men—the ones loyal to Cedric—would resist. Without proof, they could arrest us instead. Cedric has positioned himself so well that any move against him needs to be ironclad."

Bastien chimed in, his voice low. "We're walking a fine line here. Until we have the evidence to expose him, we'll only draw more danger by revealing ourselves."

Sting rubbed his chin, clearly unsettled. "So hiding's the best option for now?"

"It's not hiding," Lilithe corrected, her voice resolute. "It's waiting for the right moment. We'll gather the proof we need, then we'll strike. And when we do, Cedric will have no place to run."

A tense silence settled over the room, but there was a sense of resolve in the air. They all knew the risks, but they had no choice. Together, they would wait, bide their time, and when the moment came, they would be ready.

Lucy stepped out of the bathroom, her heart pounding in her chest as she smoothed down the soft fabric of her nightgown. It wasn't the first time she and Sting had shared a bed, but tonight felt different—more intimate. She glanced over at Sting, lying shirtless on the bed, his muscular arms tucked behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.

Sting offered his room to Mephisto and Bastien since they were hiding now like them. A kind gesture that made her face warmer than it already was.

He noticed her hesitation and gave her a reassuring smile. "You okay?"

Lucy nodded, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "Yeah, just… tired."

She slipped under the covers beside him, trying to steady her breathing as she settled into the warm space next to him. The bed felt smaller than she remembered, and the closeness between them was suddenly palpable. Sting turned his head to look at her, his eyes soft, a teasing glint in them.

"I guess we're back to sharing beds again," he murmured.

Lucy let out a small laugh, trying to ease her nerves. "It's temporary. Besides, it's not like we haven't done this before."

"True." He grinned, shifting slightly so that his arm brushed against hers. "But this feels different, doesn't it?"

She bit her lip, nodding. "Yeah, it does."

They lay in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of everything they'd been through lingering in the air. Lucy stared at the ceiling, her mind wandering. Thoughts of home, of their future, began to surface.

"What will you do once we go back home?" Sting's voice broke through her thoughts.

Lucy turned her head to look at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I've been thinking about that, actually. I think… I think I have a new idea for a book."

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh yeah? What's it about?"

She hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Well, it's kind of inspired by everything that's happened recently. A story about kingdoms, betrayal, and…" She paused, her blush deepening. "Love."

Sting's smirk grew. "Love, huh?"

Lucy nudged him playfully, rolling her eyes. "Don't make it weird. It's just an idea."

"I like it," he said softly, his voice suddenly serious. "I think you'll write something amazing, like always."

Her heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his tone. She turned onto her side, facing him now, their faces only inches apart. "You really think so?"

"I know so," Sting replied, his eyes locking with hers.

The air between them shifted again, the playful banter giving way to something deeper, something unspoken but undeniably present. Lucy's breath caught in her throat as she realized just how close they were. Her gaze flickered to his lips, and she found herself leaning in, almost without thinking.

Sting didn't hesitate. He closed the distance between them, his lips brushing against hers in a gentle, almost hesitant kiss. It was soft at first, a tentative exploration, but then it deepened as they both gave in to the moment. His hand moved to cup her face, and Lucy melted into him, her heart racing.

When they finally pulled apart, Lucy's cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide as she stared at him in disbelief.

"I—"

But before she could say anything, Sting grinned, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. "You talk too much."

Lucy laughed, her nerves fading away as she leaned in to kiss him again, this time with more confidence. In that moment, everything else—Cedric, the court, the danger they faced—faded into the background. All that mattered was this closeness, this warmth between them.

"I do not," she pouted, crossing her arms in playful defiance.

Sting chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down her spine. Without warning, he yanked her into his arms, pulling her flush against his chest. "You definitely do," he teased, resting his chin on the top of her head.

She sighed, letting herself relax in his embrace. It felt right—safe, even. The weight of the world outside their little bubble seemed to disappear. For the first time in days, Lucy felt like she could breathe.

Sting was the first to fall asleep, his steady breathing filling the quiet room. Lucy, however, stayed awake for a little while longer, watching him in the soft glow of moonlight. He looked so peaceful when he slept, his usually intense expression softened, his guard down. She found herself tracing the line of his jaw with her gaze, memorizing every detail.

Her heart swelled with a warmth she hadn't expected. She knew that her heart was making room for Sting. How could it not? He was everything she hadn't realized she needed—kind, handsome, protective. He had this way of making her feel both challenged and safe, of stirring up emotions she hadn't been prepared to face. And yet, here they were, sharing a bed, and somehow, it felt as natural as breathing.

"I think I'm falling for you," she whispered to his sleeping form, smiling softly to herself as she snuggled closer to him, letting his warmth lull her into sleep.