The first rays of dawn pierced through the frost-laced windows of Rowan's house, casting a soft, golden glow over the tangled sheets. Holly stirred, her body aching in the best possible way—muscles sore from the night's frenzy, skin marked with faint bruises from Rowan's desperate grip. She could still feel the echo of him inside her, the raw, unprotected claim he'd made under the aurora. No barriers, no regrets. Just them, fused in a moment that had rewritten their futures.

Rowan lay beside ...