Thane.
He’s here. In bed next to me.
The dim light of morning filters through the wooden slats of the window, casting a soft glow against his bare shoulders, the long lines of his back. He’s half-turned toward me, one arm resting loosely between us, his breathing deep and even.
I exhale slowly, my body relaxing, the tension I didn’t even realize I’d been holding slipping away. I hadn’t expected him to come back. Not after our fight. Not after the way he’d left, his voice tight, controlled, as if he had been one breath away from breaking something.
But he’s here.
And I am relieved. More than I should be.
I let my eyes trace over him, taking in the new lines of exhaustion beneath his eyes. He hadn’t just come back. He’d stayed beside me.
I shift, careful not to jostle the bed, my ribs still protesting. I watch the way his breathing remains steady. The flicker of light catches on an old scar. Then on the quiet strength of him—thetension that doesn’t quite release, even in sleep.
I think to wake him—but pause. For the first time in days, he looks at peace. And gods help me—I don’t want to take that from him.
Thane shifts beside me, exhaling a slow, steady breath as he turns over, now facing me. For a brief moment, I think he’s waking—his brow furrows slightly, his breathing shifts—but then, just as quickly, he settles back into sleep.
Closer now.
The space between us is small, barely a hand’s width apart. Close enough that I can see the way his lashes fan against his cheekbones, the way his lips part slightly with each steady breath.
I don’t move. I just watch him. He’s always so severe when he’s awake—his jaw locked, his posture rigid, his presence filling any room he steps into like a storm rolling in. But here, like this, he’s just Thane. The sharp edges of him are softer in sleep, his expression unguarded.
The soft light of the approaching dawn casts long shadows across his face, highlighting the strong angles of his cheekbones, the sharp cut of his jaw.
He’s beautiful.
The thought hits me before I can stop it. I exhale softly, letting my gaze linger for just a moment longer. Because when morning comes, when he wakes, when reality settles between us again, this quiet will disappear.
And I’m not ready to let it go yet.
But then something shifts—his body tenses. His breath catches, sharp and sudden, like something pulled him out of sleep without warning. Then, his eyes fly open, sharp, locking onto mine like I startled him.
I still.
He blinks once, his breathing suddenly uneven, his bodyrigid. Something flickers across his face—shock, confusion. His fingers twitch slightly against the sheets, like his body was reacting to something before his mind caught up—something unseen, something I can’t feel. He shifts, his chest rising and falling too fast now, his eyes scanning over me as if to reassure himself that I’m really here.
I see it then. The conflict. The way his jaw tightens, his expression closing off like he’s already trying to bury whatever just happened.
But then, relief.
His gaze sweeps over me, taking in my face, the steadiness of my breath, the fact that I’m awake and alert.
I open my mouth to ask what’s wrong, but Thane shifts back before I can. He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over his face, and when he looks at me again, the moment is gone.
His expression is back to what it always is—composed, unreadable, like a door closing between us. Whatever just happened, he’s already locking it away, burying it beneath that unshakable mask.
And that unsettles me more than anything else because I thought we were past this. I thought I’d finally start seeing the man beneath the Warlord. But now, staring at him, I realize—he’s still holding back.
Too much has happened and I don’t have the energy for another fight—maybe not even the will. So instead, I just let it go. For now.
Because despite everything—he’s here.
I exhale softly, then smile at him. Small, tired, but real.
I reach for him, fingers brushing against his wrist before sliding into his palm. His hand closes around mine, warm and steady. Then, he lifts it, pressing a soft kiss against my palm.
