Alena

“Here,” I suggest, placing a delicate vase of nightshade blooms upon a mantle, “to remind us of the beauty in resilience, the potency hidden beneath a serene facade.”

“Perfect,” Roak agrees, his arm encircling my waist as we survey the room. “Our haven, a reflection of who we are and what we aspire to be.”

As the last rays of daylight surrender to the encroaching shadows, I lean back against Roak, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my spine. ...