Hours later.
Raven hummed in satisfaction as warm fingers slowly ran through his hair, soft and deliberate, trailing down to trace the side of his face.
It was comforting—almost enough to make him drift back into sleep. Almost.
He cracked his eyes open with a lazy blink, only to see a familiar face hovering just above him.
Clara.
Her soft, golden eyes met his half-lidded red ones, and she smiled without saying a word.
He didn't even hesitate.
Pulling her down gently by the nape, Raven pressed his lips to hers in a slow, languid kiss.
The tension in his chest faded instantly, replaced by a familiar warmth that had nothing to do with fire or corrosion.
Her lips were just as he remembered—soft, tasting faintly of something sweet. Mint and strawberries, maybe.
He had already rested enough, and although his soul had still not healed completely, he was fine.
Also, he had taken Crisaius's advice about love life seriously. He was going to change.
He had changed.
