The night deepened, the world outside sinking into a quiet stillness, but Winter's eyes refused to close.
She lay on her side, watching Kalix. His head rested on the pillow, eyes shut as if sleep had claimed him, but she knew better.
Kalix always held her when they slept — her head tucked against his chest, his arm locked firmly around her waist. But tonight, he lay on his back, one hand resting over his chest, the other at his side, still and unmoving.
Her brows furrowed. The rise and fall of his chest was too measured. Too controlled. He wasn't sleeping — he was pretending.
His earlier words replayed in her mind, each one landing like a slap she hadn't been ready for. She should have confronted him. Should have demanded an explanation. But instead… a slow, wicked thought curled in her mind.
A mischievous smile tugged at her lips as she slipped under the duvet, the soft darkness swallowing her whole.
