The cruelest thing Aeron Valdamar had ever done was wake her up.
Kaia was buried deep in the heavy charcoal velvet of his bed, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, sandalwood, and exhausted satisfaction. She was drifting in a dreamless, perfect sleep when a warm, calloused hand brushed the hair away from her face, and a soft kiss landed on her bare shoulder.
"Wake up, little sheep," a low, gravelly voice murmured against her skin. "The sun is threatening to ruin everything."
Kaia groaned, swatting blindly at his chest. "Tell the sun I said no. Tell it I am issuing a royal veto."
Aeron chuckled—a deep, resonant sound that vibrated against her side. He grabbed her wrist, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
"If I had the power to halt the dawn, I would," he promised softly. "But the Watchdog rises early. And if she finds your bed empty and the door locked from the outside, she will burn this palace to the ground."
Reality crashed into Kaia like a bucket of icy water.
