Dami’s POV

The morning sunlight crept softly across my face before I even opened my eyes, warm and steady. For a moment, I let myself enjoy the stillness, my body sinking deeper into the mattress, my head heavy on the pillow, the faint scent of vanilla candle lingering in the air. Then I felt a presence gentle, intentional. My eyes fluttered open.

A tray on my bed. “Good morning,” Doman’s voice came from the foot of the bed, low and annoyingly smooth as if he woke up every day with ...