SIENNA’S POV

The bathroom was still warm from the steam, the air thick with lavender and eucalyptus, soft candlelight bouncing gently across the tiles like little flecks of gold. I had just sunk deeper into the bubbles, letting the water swallow everything heavy inside me, when I heard the softest shift of air behind me—like someone inhaling before speaking.

I turned.

And there he was.

Luther.

Standing at the doorway like he had materialized out of the shadows—broad shoulders, damp ...