Seraphina woke to a familiar weight at her side and an unfamiliar amount of peace.
Rhys.
Arm slung across her waist, chest pressed against her back, breath warm and slow on her neck. He didn't flinch when she stirred—just nuzzled closer like he had every right to stay.
And he did.
She sighed. "Rhys."
"Already awake," he muttered, voice rough with sleep and arrogance. "Just pretending I'm still dreaming so you won't kick me out."
"You're in my bed."
"And if there's any justice in this world, I'll be there again tonight."
She turned slightly, eyes narrow. "You're awfully smug for a man who nearly passed out when I kissed you the first time."
"Nearly. Didn't." He smiled. "That's growth."
The confusion filled puppy from just days before is no more. He looks more confident and cheerful now.
She slid from the bed, letting the sheet fall from her shoulder like a challenge.
He watched her move across the room, gaze warm and proprietary. Like she was a landscape he'd mapped in secret. His.
She poured herself coffee. Took one sip. Then sighed.
"I don't remember asking you to stay."
"You didn't." He sat up, sheet pooling around his waist. "I stayed because I wanted to. And because I thought I'd be useful this morning."
"You brought me coffee?"
"No," he said, rising and padding over to her barefoot, still smug. "I brought you me. Coffee is just a bonus."
She snorted, but didn't move as he reached past her, grabbed the second cup he'd already prepared, and handed it over like it was normal.
Because to him?
It was.
They stood like that for a moment. Close. Easy. Too easy.
Then a knock.
Sharp. Annoying. Lucien.
Rhys sighed dramatically. "Let's pretend we didn't hear it."
"He'll open the door."
"I'll hex the hinges shut."
She took another sip. "You can't hex."
"I can threaten. It's close."
She turned, back against the counter, holding his gaze.
"You're acting like you're already mine."
"I am."
And then, with a grin that was just a little too wolfish:
"But that doesn't mean I like watching anyone else try to be."