The morning after Victor’s threatening call felt like a fresh start wrapped in leftover tension. I woke up first, still curled against Damien’s side. He was feeling way better this morning after the fever he had yesterday. His breathing was steady, and the dark circles under his eyes had lightened a little. I watched him sleep for a moment, tracing the line of his jaw with my eyes, feeling that familiar mix of love and worry.
He stirred when I shifted, one arm tightening around my waist. “Morning,” he murmured, voice deep.
“Morning,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” he said, but he still sounded a bit hoarse. “No fever, hust tired.”
I pressed my hand to his forehead anyway. “You’re not going to work today. Doctor’s orders.”
He raised an ey
