I stood at the window of our bedroom, watching dawn break over Thorne Estate. It had been three days since our confrontation with the Night Weavers, and the world seemed determined to move forward despite the Abbess's ominous warning.
"The true Serpent still sleeps," she had said. Those words haunted my dreams.
Warm arms encircled my waist from behind, and I leaned back against Alaric's solid chest.
"You're up early," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple.
"I couldn't sleep." I turned in his embrace to face him. The faint light cast shadows across his handsome features, highlighting the fatigue I knew mirrored my own. "Every time I close my eyes, I hear her voice."
Alaric's jaw tightened. "We won, Isabella. We stopped them."
"Did we? Or did we just cut off one head of the beast?"
He sighed, leading me back to our bed. We sat on the edge together, his hand clasped with mine.
