The press of her hips against his. The shudder of her limbs around him. The cry that broke from her when everything inside them tightened, then came undone.
Felix exhaled through his teeth and pressed both fists into the mattress, even more than his hips.
Maisie.
He could still feel her hands at the nape of his neck, the slow curl of her fingers in his hair. Her shift, slipping under his palms like water.He remembered her sounds, her breath, the rhythm she fell into. His body did not forget.
From the corner of the room, the puppy stirred.
“Sorry I woke you, little one,” Felix said softly.
She stretched, small and unbothered, paws spreading wide as she yawned. The noise was so small, so trusting, it pricked something deep in his chest.
He bit his lip, hard enough to sting. The next image came anyway.
Her breast in his mouth—warm, giving. The tight pull of her nipple under his tongue.
He swallowed. The tension stayed. His skin hot, drawn tight. His body refused calm. Pressing into the mattress only deepened the ache.
Her scent drifted through his memory—lavender, and something deeper, earthy, unmistakably hers.
He had caught it yesterday. A flicker in the air as someone passed.
Felix sat up, shoved the pillow aside. The sheets clung to him, damp and twisted. He raked a hand through his hair, jaw clenched. The tension gripped him low and sharp, impossible to shake.
He had left her. For honor and a chance of a better future. The irony wasn’t lost on him. And every day since had opened another hollow inside his chest.
The puppy turned in Chromius’ old basket near the hearth, tail tucked beneath her chin.
Felix rose. Slowly. He braced his weight on his knees, then stood. Dressed. The wool of his breeches scraped over damp skin.
He couldn’t stay here.
Maisie.
She had once been home. She still was.
And somewhere—just beyond reach—she breathed.
He dragged a hand through his hair, his fingers catching in the damp strands.
“Little one,” he murmured, reaching down to stroke the puppy’sback. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
His voice was steady now. Or close enough.
Nothing could change the past. All he could do was remember.
And remembering? That was both his greatest torment and the only solace left.
I have to find her.
Chapter Twenty
The morning airhit Felix like a clean slate. The street still held onto the dark, the dawn reluctant to warm its edges. He pulled his coat tighter with one hand, the other holding the pup close beneath the fold.
He hummed without thinking, a tune that came and went like breath. Vienna. He’d heard it a hundred times growing up, but the words had long since scattered. That unsettled him more than he liked. What else had he forgotten, or left behind without meaning to?
Maisie came to his mind. Always her, waiting behind stray thoughts.
