Elara POV
I finish fastening the final clasp on my bag just as a knock sounds at the door.
I don’t need the scent slipping beneath the wood to know who it is.
“Come in,” I say.
The door opens, and Caelan fills the frame with infuriating ease—broad shoulders wrapped in a dark shirt that clings just enough to remind me what lives beneath it, sleeves pushed back to reveal strong forearms dusted with dark hair. His presence shifts the air the moment he steps inside, the room seeming to narrow around him without ever feeling crowded, his gaze lifting to mine and holding as though it has nowhere else it intends to settle.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Just about” I reply, adjusting the strap of my bag out of habit more than necessity.
Something sharp and intent flickers through his eyes. He steps fu
